


Rule Zero

by DresdenHaskell



Series: Contingent Events [2]
Category: Monster of the Week (Tabletop RPG)
Genre: Angst and Feels, Betrayal, Forced Pregnancy, Found Family, Gen, Homelessness, LGBTQ Character, LGBTQ Themes, POV First Person, Prostitution, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-27
Updated: 2019-06-27
Packaged: 2020-05-20 21:46:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 12
Words: 28,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19385245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DresdenHaskell/pseuds/DresdenHaskell
Summary: This is an AU for "Contingencies", a dark what-if: How far would Jacob go to get what he wants? How much will everyone suffer in the wake of his betrayal? How will they survive in a harsh world of cruel monsters and crueller humans? How do monster hunters adapt to life deprived of magic, money, and allies?





	1. Loyalty

**Author's Note:**

> The timeline split occurs at the end of Chapter 9: Metal Bars of Contingencies.
> 
> Things go horribly for everyone. Things mostly turn around in the end, but the happy ending is very much earned, after quite a lot of suffering first. There are no on-screen sex or rape scenes, but they're discussed and implied heavily. Take those content tags seriously and consider yourself warned.
> 
> This is a collaborative work with the creators of Rune, Jacob, and Bartholomew; I wrote 99% of the prose, with their input on dialogue and such for accuracy. It also uses characters made by our game's Keeper. As we hadn't finished the main campaign yet, we make a lot of suppositions about lore for the universe it takes place in, and characters' situations and alignments shift around accordingly, so don't take this as canon for Contingencies.

“Always stay calm.

"Let them treat you however they wish.

"Let them think you’re weak where you’re strong, and strong where you’re weak. Never show your true weakness.

"Never threaten, nor attack, anyone unless absolutely necessary.

"And never tell them these rules: Humans don’t like knowing your interactions are based on codes, algorithms, and careful consideration of the usefulness of each outcome. Share our secrets with no one, for no one can be trusted.”

The five (more or less) rules of being a good vampire. That’s how you stay good with people. That’s how you get to feed without having to hunt. And when you don’t have to hunt, you don’t get hunted down.

I nod to Uncle Chuck. Yeah, I kinda don’t like knowing this either, now. All that goody-two-shoes old man shtick was an act. A sham. Don’t know the real him in him, anymore. I think the true him’s not the skin and hair and all that, no, not the organs that don’t work anymore, not even the spooky red eyes. True Charles starts and ends at the canines, and all the rest’s just a meat suit to get them what they want.

God, I want it so bad right now myself. If my grandparents came home yet I don’t know that I wouldn’t jump up and eat ‘em.

“Do you know what Rule Zero is, Vanessa?” he asks patiently.

“No. What?” I say.

“Loyalty. I was not allowed the blood of your family by threats and shows of force. I was accepted as the Renards’ warden through an extension of mutual good graces. Do well to others, Vanessa, and that will earn you the best life possible. Show cruelty, callousness, or disrespect, and you only besmirch your reputation and turn the world against you.”

Uncle Chuck hands me a glasses case. “Here. I believe you’ll find this style to your… taste.”

I open it up to find a pair of snazzy new Ray-Ban Aviators. I snap 'em to my face. “Hell yes.”

He gives his usual kindly smile. “Always remember that, Vanessa. Rule Zero comes before all other rules. Besides your own survival, break them in service of one thing only: Loyalty.”

—

September 25, 2018.

We just defeated a coupla demons hitching a ride in one human. Other than getting thrown in the slammer for a few days, and getting turned human myself by one particular religious asshole, this hasn’t been the worst week of my life. Spending a weekend with a hot lawyer will make it a pretty okay one.

The three of us, and the P.I., reconvene at the hotel. We tell him the whole thing about how monsters are real and we hunt them, that’s why we were at that warehouse, blah blah. He says he knew it, why didn’t he see it before, it all makes sense now, blah blah.

He scurries off again to do something-or-other. P.I. business. I dunno.

Jacob gets a call on his phone. He doesn’t ask any questions, just says, “Mhm. Yeah. No. Yes. Okay.” Can’t tell if he’s trying to shake a stubborn telemarketer, one of his parents, or a cop.

He hangs up and tells us he’s got some business he suddenly needs to attend to. We say okay. He drives off. Rune and I relax in the room for a while. I take a nap, not on purpose.

Jacob comes back eventually. Comes in looking chillier than normal. No, not icy. Stony. Distant. He tells us he has something important to say. Sounds like 'you better have a seat’ news. Don’t like this. I’m already sitting on the bed, but I sit up straighter to show I’m paying attention. Rune puts her video game away.

He takes a breath. Lets it out. “I’ve been offered a deal.”

“Okay. What is it?” I ask.

“I saw Adrian.”

Can’t be bad news, since he didn’t drink himself stupid this time.

“Is it about the cruise?”

“No. Except indirectly. We… don’t have to go on that mission anymore. We’ve been released. Because he’s been released.”

“Rel– you mean from the demon? He’s not possessed anymore?”

“Yes.”

“And he’s… uh… still got all his marbles?”

“Enough.”

“Well. Hey. Cool. So he’s gonna join us now?”

“No.”

“You’ll go join him.”

“Yes.”

“Oh.” I see where this is going, and I don’t wanna ask and make it true.

Rune says, “What about us?”

Jacob doesn’t say anything for a minute. Starts to a couple times. Finally says, “This will be the last time I have any contact with either of you.”

I scoot to the edge of the bed. “What, not even holidays?”

“The terms of the deal…” he says. “No.”

“S- so…” The rug’s doing its best to get yanked out from under me. I’m trying not to let it yet. “So you have to cut contact to save him. The demon left if you agreed to… leave us.”

Long pause. “Not exactly.”

“What, the demon’s sticking around?”

“No. I exorcised it first. It’s gone.”

“So who the hell’s deal is it? Why can’t you just…”

“That’s not important. What’s important is that I agreed.”

“You – but – just like that? There’s no half-way, visits-on-weekends – You couldn’t haggle this price down a little? Find some compromise?”

He winces, just a little. “Like I said, this will be the last time we have contact.”

Yep, there goes the rug. My head’s spinning in outer space now, for like, the third time this week. Nobody says anything for a long time.

“The hotel is still booked through until Monday,” he finally says. Like that’s fair compensation.

“Well, that’s.” I swallow. “That’s just a band-aid on the Titanic, huh?”

“I thought you’d understand. Do you know how long I’ve waited for this?”

“Yeah, long enough to get over it. I wouldn’t ditch you for any of my exes. Or anyone. Literally anyone.”

“Not even your old family? Not even a chance to become a vampire again?” he says.

“Yeah, no. If I get to Cain and he says, 'Vampirism or your friends,’ I’m picking my friends. I mean, I already did. In Lark’s vision.”

Another little wince. Hm.

I keep going. “Remember? I got the choice to either kill Rune and stay immortal, or go back to being human on the spot. Didn’t take ten seconds to pick the latter.”

“This is different. I’m not killing either of you.”

“No. Sure. Right. Just… Tossing us to the curb.” I stand up. “What about all that crap you promised about always staying with us? Staying around to protect us?”

“Things changed.”

“Of course they did,” Rune says softly, sounding hollow. “They always do.”

“I thought you– Can’t you at least be happy for me?” he says.

“I’m thrilled,” I say flatly. “This is great. Happiest day of my life. I get to lose my best and only friend. Let’s bake a cake about it.”

He looks stung, then angry. The room gets a notch colder. “We all have to make choices –”

“There’s no 'have to’ in this situation. If this was about saving Adrian, I’d cheer you on. He deserves to be free. But this? This is just you failing to get over the past. This is you – this is taking every promise, and throwing it on the ground in front of us, and –”

“I meant what I said before, Van!”

“Did you really? 'Cause when I say things, I do mean them, and I keep my word to prove it. If I tell someone I’m loyal to them, it’s because I actually am.”

“And like I said, things changed. I didn’t know this deal would ever happen. I didn’t think I’d have to choose.”

“Does Adrian know what you – what kind of person you really are? Does your family? Are they real proud of you now?” I say. “Did you say those nice things to all your other friends too, is everyone just a little stepping stone to your real goal?”

“You have no idea what happened to the others,” he says coldly. “I can’t believe you’re – I’ve been giving, and giving, my entire life. I’m done being the martyr for everyone else. Can’t I have this? Don’t I deserve this?”

“Yeah, sure. And we deserve nothing, right? It’s just great, knowing that like, someone I’d lay my life down for doesn’t even – You know what? Why didn’t you just rip the band-aid off sooner, and save us all a lot of pain? Did you just string us along while we were still useful, but now that’s done with, so buh-bye?”

“I didn’t have this choice in front of me then.”

“Well, then I wish I knew all along I should’ve been waiting for the other shoe to drop. I even asked you, if he got freed, then –” I shake my head. “Whatever. You’re just another spoiled little rich boy who’s only in it for himself. Everybody’s martyr my ass.”

“You know that isn’t true.”

“Do I?”

“At least I’m not a leech,” he says. “You’re the one who only sees everyone as a way to gain something. You can only survive if you’re bleeding someone dry, in every sense of the word.”

“Hey, you know I got my hunger under control! Before Marcus took my vampirism away, I was in control finally!”

“So you didn’t tear someone apart one time. You want a ribbon?”

“I’ve never killed a fucking innocent, Jacob! What the hell? What happened to all that, 'Oh, Van’s a good person, everyone needs to feed, I’d be fine even if you killed a hobo, but I’m glad you go after bad people and I’ll even help you do it’?”

“I was willing to bleed for you without being asked, before I even knew your last name.”

“Yeah, I didn’t ask, that’s the point! What happened to saying I’m not a burden, or can’t be replaced? Like, I tried to be thrifty, I barely bought anything, and everything I bought was from thrift stores and dollar stores! I – I tried to be useful, I wasn’t just hanging out in the car doing nothing, I was fighting, and investigating, and…”

I’m shaking. My face is hot. My voice is breaking. “Was it just… Is that what you’ve really thought about me all along?”

“Is that 'spoiled rich kid’ what you really thought about me?”

“No, I never – If I thought that’s what you were like, this wouldn’t be such a suckerpunch, Jacob!”

“You should have known you couldn’t rely on me forever.”

“Yeah, but, I…” There are the tears. “I didn’t think it’d happen right after you told me you’d always be there.”

He just looks cold and complacent. “I should get my things. Did you leave anything in the car?”

I choke back another weep, setting my jaw. “I’d understand if it was just me, Jacob. You’re not the first person who said they cared before throwing me out. But – Fucking Rune, too?”

“…Those were the terms.”

“Whoop-de-fuckin’-doo. After everything! After Silas, Nick, her mom, even Marcus and his alleged mission, after everyone, and you’ll still do this to her? Does she need another fucking betrayal, Jacob?!”

His face twitches. He gathers his things.

“So you’ll throw out a kid you promised to protect, right out on the street, huh? Are you gonna tell your future kids about it? Or just abandon them, too? Maybe being a deadbeat dad’s just in your blood! Just biding its time! Who the fuck cares who gets in the way of Lord Jacob on his way to the throne!” I shout through the tears. “I’m sure you’ll sleep at night just fucking fantastic now!

"You get to go back to your country club and your family and your big bank account, and leave us with nothing, less than nothing, a big goddamn gaping hole where all our trust used to be! Because you’re just a broken record, stuck skipping and scratching over the same damn spot because you could never grow up, move on, and take some real responsibility for the people you got to depend on you! So broken you gotta break everyone in your wake!”

“I’m not the one who can’t grow up,” he says, moving for the door with his suitcase in hand. “And I’m not the one shitting on the one person in this room doing something meaningful in his life. I’m not the one so afraid to think about the future I have to seek undeath to avoid having to. I’m not the stray dog whose life is so empty I have to fill the void with the first hand that feeds me.”

That twist of the knife takes all the air out of me. I can’t think of anything to say to that. He doesn’t care. I’m just worthless to him now, we both are. I just stare, and cry.

He says, “Get your things out of the car.”

I do, and Rune’s too.

I muster up a, “Don’t bother coming back.” It doesn’t have any verve to it.

He gets in and drives off. Another waste of trust. Another person I cared about who scurried off with his tail between his legs as soon as a shiny new opportunity appeared.

I text his mom. Ask her if it’s really him, and not a shapeshifter, or another demon, or Lark in disguise. Asking that makes me realize what was my newest greatest fear. Cool. Two for two, this week.

Whitney texts back in the affirmative. It’s him for real. I say thanks and tell her I won’t bother her anymore.

I sit on the guitar case and cry into my hands for a while, until someone asks me if I’m okay. I say I’m fine. I hurry back to the room.

I get back to find Rune… holding her video game, but not pressing buttons. Just staring through the screen. Gentle little song coming from it. I sit on the edge of my bed again. Wrangle my tears back for now. Not done with those yet, but I have shit to do that crying’s counterproductive with.

—

First I call Zeke and Mike. Ask if they’re willing to expand their team. They say no. They ask what happened. I say Jacob left, and tell them to call us anyway if they need help on any more monster hunts. They say sure. I hang up before they can ask about Jacob.

Phone service… Few weeks left. Shit. Okay. I think I have enough cash for one pre-paid card. Jacob’s lent debit cards are definitely canceled, so I gotta start thinking of how to turn a little cash into not-starving-to-death money.

I can’t hunt anymore (fuckin’ Marcus!) so I am, in fact, another mouth to feed with human food. And no easy-breezy scumbag murders means no lightening their wallets, either. I mean, sure, I could anyway. Maybe I will. But that’s real shaky ground, and I need a more permanent solution.

Fuck. I’ve been field promoted to single parent. No job, no home, no skills except killing and crime. Maybe I’ll find a nice street gang to join. I hear they’re real equal-opportunity these days. They just love biracial lesbians.

Yeah. I call Alexa. Ask if she wants to team up. She asks if I mean as a sex thing. I say sure, that too, but I meant forming an actual team. Monster hunting girl gang. She says she works solo, asks if the sex is still on the table. I say sure, if she’s in NYC.

Maybe I can get her to leave a twenty on the dresser when she leaves. Hah. Urgh.

Not a lot of other people to hit up. Ex-friends, cops, monster victims, families of victims, an actual monster who is also dead. I clear out most of my contacts list.

Hot lawyer’s still there. Lillith. Yeah. I’ll wait to beg favors until after we fuck. Maybe she’ll feel charitable in the afterglow.

“I’m gonna sell some shit,” I tell Rune. “And… get dinner.”

She doesn’t say anything.

I take the guitar, and all my used books. Walk around until I find a place to pawn everything. I go back for the other big suitcase, with the sniper rifle in it.

Maybe if I’d had time to learn it, I could just go be an assassin for hire. Eh. I find the guy we bought it from. Shady black market guy. He agrees to buy it back for a reduced price. Fine by me. It’s cash on hand, and less dead weight, and way less to worry about cops finding on me. He buys the bottles of meds I got, too.

I go buy some cheap, processed food. I get back to the room. Neither of us has an appetite.

“I’m gonna – I have…” I start to say. “The lawyer who got us out asked me over to her place for a weekend. I… I’ll ask if she can… spare any cash, I guess.”

I’m just a leech, after all.


	2. Windbreaker

September 29.

Saturday morning. I pick out a fake ID and walk around, going into every store and business I can find, asking if they’re hiring. I get some forms to take. Half this shit needs online applications. What happened to the good old days, when you could march in and get hired on the spot?

I go back, shower, change, go to Lillith’s. Turns out she’s a total bottom, so I gotta put in most of the work when my heart’s not really in it. Being angry and stressed as shit does wonders for being aggressive, at least.

She’s got a fancy apartment just below a penthouse suite. I eat lean, and save leftovers from each dinner in some tupperware. I don’t think I’ll bring back the tupperware.

When she’s asleep Sunday night, I swipe some food from the cupboards. Coupla snack bars. Handful of cereal in a ziploc bag. She won’t notice. I hide ‘em in my jacket pockets where the jacket’s still hanging by the door. Slip back into bed.

Monday morning comes. We get up bright and early. Quick breakfast and coffee together. Every other sentence, I think, right now, here’s where I gotta ask for money. Right now. Riiight… now!

I don’t. I can’t bring myself to do it. She got federal charges dropped on me for a hefty fee on someone else’s tab. I can’t ask for money now. Besides, what if she thinks I’m straight-up prostituting here? Can’t break the law at her. (Yeah, stealing’s illegal. But she’ll never know. So whatever.)

Food’s food, I guess. I get back to the hotel room, tell Rune that I got food and we can worry about cash later. We gather up our things, steal all the mini-shampoos, and check out of the hotel.

And now we’re on the street.

“What now?” she says.

“Gym membership. We can store our stuff there. Free showers. Wi-Fi. Sometimes there’s food.”

“Then what?”

“I’ll keep looking for work.”

“What about a place to sleep?”

“I dunno yet. Guess we can try a shelter.”

It takes some doing and a lot of time and footwork, but the itinerary gets done, I guess. Gotta hide my gun at the gym, and we gotta eat all the food in my jacket before the shelter lets us go in. What is this, a Michelin-rated restaurant? Are they worried a baggie of brand cereal’s gonna drive the soup kitchen outta business? Whatever. Never dealt with shelters before on account of not needing to sleep, so I have no idea how this is supposed to work.

I dunno how the day gets away from us so fast in the first place. Tuesday’s already here. More wandering, applying, rationing. God, I’m tired. I doze off at a library computer while trying to apply to work.

Rune sticks by me, which I’m glad for. Not just 'cause I’m glad she’s where I can keep an eye on her, but I’m a little terrified she’ll ditch me too. I think she’s kind of afraid of me doing the same thing, and wants to make sure I don’t run off either.

Days go by. Then weeks. The wad of cash dwindles. Rune sells the laptop Jacob gave her. Then some of her DS games. Then the DS.

I hate that she has to. She should get to keep her games. Be a kid, have a fun, let me worry about the money.

The air’s getting colder. More people filling up the shelters sooner. We don’t get in some nights. Gotta find park benches and alleyways to fall asleep in. Sometimes we take turns staying awake, to be safe. We’re usually too exhausted. We’re always exhausted. This is exhausting. Fuck.

I get more phone time. Just in case a job calls back. Just in case anyone changes their mind about teaming up. Just in case a Nigerian prince has a million bucks to send me.

“Van, I still have a destiny,” Rune says. “I still need to kill Lark.”

“Yeah.”

“I have to see it through.”

“And I’ll help you do it.”

It’s the most we’ve said in a while. We’re too tired to say anything, most of the time. Some days, I swear we burn off too many calories just breathing.

She hasn’t had a vision in a while. I wonder if Fate’s abandoned us, too.

—

October 12.

Next day, Alexa texts me. Heyo, she’s in the city. We meet at a motel. Rune hangs out at a park nearby.

Alexa notices I’m not a vampire anymore. She’s disappointed, but she’s already here. I explain how it happened. She says that explains why Marcus is gone. She asks about Jacob. I say he left. I suggest we get a room already.

We do. We fuck. It’s a while, but not nearly as much as before, 'cause I’m mortal now. I’m kind of super exhausted, but eh, I’m on the bottom so it doesn’t matter.

She asks me about Jacob after. I hoped she’d forget. I give her the summary, just the headline. She asks if we made any progress on that symbol from the journal. I say nope. Kinda forgot the journal existed by now.

This time I have the gumption (and the hunger) to ask if maybe she can spare a couple bucks. She leaves a fiver, then she just leaves. I forget to ask what she’s hunting out here in New York. Oh well.

I head over to the park. Find Rune asleep on a bench. I’d let her sleep, but something’s wrong. Something’s missing. I wake her up. “Rune. Did you leave your pack at the gym?”

“No, I –” She looks around. Her eyes widen. “Oh, shit. Oh shit. Oh fuck.”

I stay calm. “How long were you asleep?”

“I don’t know! I don’t even remember falling asleep! Fuck, someone took my backpack!”

“They might still be nearby. Keep an eye out.”

We split up and search the park. I watch out for the backpack or anyone wearing it. I’m so damn tired, but what else am I gonna do with my day? We scour the area for hours. I can barely keep my eyes open by the time we run into each other again. The sun’s coming up now.

“I’m sorry, Rune. I couldn’t…”

She looks like she’s been crying already, but now she’s too tired to cry again. “It’s my fault,” she says. “I should’ve left my stuff at the gym like you do. I shouldn’t have fallen asleep. I should’ve been more careful.”

“No, it’s not your fault.” I squeeze her shoulder. “God, I’m sorry. This sucks.”

“Everything I ever had was in there. My phone, my books. My dad’s books…”

“I know.” I pull her into a hug. “I know.”

We find someplace in the park to sit down. We can’t stay awake long enough to find someplace else. We fall asleep leaning shoulder-to-shoulder under a tree. We wake up in the afternoon.

“I had a vision,” Rune says.

“What was it?” I ask.

“I don’t know. It was really vague. I saw you… looking at your phone. I don’t know why, but it was really important. Like the vision was telling me that something on your phone was important.”

I check my phone. No new texts or missed calls or anything. I look around through everything, notice my storage is way lighter than before.

“Um. Something huge got deleted,” I say. “Apparently. I don’t know what.”

It takes me a second to realize what should be there and isn’t.

“Ah, crap. Your dad’s journal. All of it. The copy we had of it.”

“What?! How? You didn’t…”

“No, of course not. That’s important.” Pause. “Shit. Alexa. It was her. I left it on the nightstand to charge while… uh… stuff. And I went to the bathroom and she was alone with it long enough. She’s the only person who’s been alone with it except me.”

“Why would Alexa want to delete that?”

“She’s the only one who recognized those symbols in it. She said they were bad. And she… ah, shit. She was asking me about those symbols…”

“Do you think she stole my pack?”

“She didn’t have time. We left at the same time, I walked straight here. Even in a car, she’d have to park first, so.”

“…Van, she… she can teleport. I saw her do it before. She’d step behind a tree and vanish.”

“Well. Shit.”

I check my contacts. Alexa’s number is gone.

—

October 15.

I get offered some work. Shady black market guy has some items that need to go to a shady part of town. I ask him how many bullet holes I can expect to come back with. He asks how many I’m okay with to the tune of a-frankly-surprising-amount. I say for that much I’ll be Swiss cheese and play myself like an ocarina.

It’s not really a whole lot (in this economy!) but it’s room-and-board amount, and fuck it, nobody else is calling.

I try to tell Rune she shouldn’t come along for this one. She gets anxious. I say it’s for her safety. She says she needs to protect me. I say I have a gun and a bulletproof vest. She says she can shoot lightning. Yeah okay.

I remember Jacob was gonna teach me magic too. So I could take care of myself better. Meh. Guess I’ll ask Rune.

We get to some part of the city that’s especially allergic to fresh air, fresh paint, and any kind of law enforcement. I’ve got a bag inside my pack. Drop-off point’s in an abandoned warehouse (or something), 'cause of course it is. No, I don’t know or care what the payload is.

I put it down, we back off. Some dudes are shadowing the room. One on the floor, couple above, where the old manager’s office was. Floor guy goes over, checks the bag, nods, takes it, leaves another bag. I go check that once he backs off. Cash confirmed. I count it. Amount confirmed too low.

“This isn’t what we agreed on,” I say.

“House takes a cut, doll,” says a guy from the balcony.

I do some tactical planning for ten seconds before I shrug. “Fine, whatever.”

“You looking to make some more?”

“If you have more work.”

“Sure. We can discuss it in my office.”

“Kinda don’t wanna leave her alone with your goons,” I say.

“You insult me.”

“No, just them.”

He waves said goons away to another room. Rune hefts her bat around a few times, slings it on her shoulder, nods to me. I find the stairs, head up to join whoever-the-hell in 'his’ office. It’s AN office, sure. Desk, chairs, lots of papers still here. He plops into the boss chair and looks me over. Maybe he thinks he’s like a cool mob don. Except he’s just a scruffy guy in an Adidas windbreaker.

“…You even a woman?” he says.

“Are you a man?” I shoot back.

“Just figuring where I could put you.”

“Get to the point.”

“Thought it was obvious. You’re looking for work. I know some people.”

“What kind of work?”

“The kind of work where it matters you’re a woman or not,” he says.

“Ah,” I say. “I… don’t… No thanks.”

“You sure? Getting cold out there.”

“Not my kinda work. I was hoping for more deliveries. Or whatever.”

“My friend was being nice to let a couple of little girls handle this one. Not typically the way things are done. So how about this. I add some more to that bag, if you get on your knees in front of this chair right now.”

I glare. “I just said…”

“Nothing more, no expectations. One-time exchange of favors. If you’re still looking for work later, you come back and we’ll see from there.”

I look out the window that overlooks the building floor. Rune’s still safe, leaning against a wall. Well, relatively safe. This isn’t a safe place. We don’t have a safe life. So I better fuckin’ change that any way I can, huh?

I close the blinds.


	3. Party

October 28.

I pull my overcoat on and button it closed. Scarf, glasses, gloves. Leave my hair down and make-up on. I head for the gym. It’s windy as hell. Feel like my legs are gonna freeze off. Probably lose my toes first, in these heels.

Instead I freeze at the sight of two familiar faces at a table outside a cafe. Hurt, and rage, shoot through me. I walk up to them. They’ve got wedding rings on.

“Hey fucker,” I say. “How’s the ivory tower?”

They both stop their conversation and stare at me.

“Guess I don’t have to bother asking how you are these days,” I say. “Doin’ just great since you threw your only friends out on the street. Did he tell you about that, Adrian? The child he threw away like trash? How he got pissed at us for not licking his boots and thanking him for it? Hope you got a pre-nup, 'cause you’re next. Soon as something better comes along, promises mean jack shit to this guy.”

I go on before either get a chance to put a word in edge-wise. “Oh, yeah, 'Hi Van, how are you? I’m surprised you haven’t starved to death yet!’ Don’t worry, that’s still a constant threat. It’s fine though, since I’m such a horrible soul-sucking leech, I’m doing everything I can to keep Rune safe and sheltered. Oh, wait. That’s not how being a leech works. A super generous and compassionate person like you would know all about that.

"In case you’re wondering how I’ve had to make it by, I suck more dick than you do these days. I do some fancy shit for a higher rate too, but in your case, I’d bend you over this table and fuck you a new hole for free.” I step back from the table.

“Nothing to say, huh? Whatever. I hope you die in a fire,” I say, flipping him double-birds before turning and stomping away.

I get to the gym, still shaking. I wash my face of all the makeup (it’s running now). Take a shower. Change into my regular pants, shirt, and shoes. Stuff the dress and heels in the locker. Overcoat and everything go back on.

From there I walk back to our apartment. It’s a shit pad in shit-town. No furniture. One used mattress on the floor. Some empty cardboard boxes for all our stuff (except what I have in the locker at the gym). Dinner table is a plywood plank on some cinder blocks.

I flop down against the wall, kick my shoes off. Pull out a pack of Reese’s and toss it over to Rune on the mattress. “Got a big tip today. Thought I’d… yeah.”

I pull over my bag stuffed with the rest of my clothes, slide down to rest my head on it. “I saw him today.”

“Who? Lark?” She sounds almost hopeful.

“…Jacob.”

She hesitates over the Reese’s, looking almost guilty, before she finally opens it. She eats one slowly, taking her time to finish it before speaking. “And what did Jake say?”

“Nothing. Not a… damn thing,” I sigh. “Why should he. He’s out there living his best life. A life without regrets.”

“Fuck that guy.”

“Mhm.”

After a while, she says, “Hey Van.”

“Mhm?”

“How come back then, you said he was your only friend?”

“I… Oh. That’s not…” I look over at her. “I meant, um.”

I can’t read her face. But I don’t think she needs me to say what I meant. Not right now, not for a long, long time. She’s had too many parents abandon her. I can’t say that I feel more like a parent than a BFF to her.

“I misspoke,” I say. “I mean that you are my friend. You are. I – guess you actually are my only friend now. I was just… angry at him. Saying whatever. Sorry.”

“…Okay.”

I change the subject. “Not hungry?” She’s only eaten one peanut butter cup so far, out of six.

“I don’t want to waste them,” she says. “You shouldn’t have bought it…”

“Why not?”

“Why not spend that money on something important?”

“Getting to enjoy things is important.”

“But you never get anything special for yourself,” she says.

“I’ve been used to a restricted diet my whole existence. It’s fine.”

“No it’s not! You deserve… You’re the one giving up everything all the time, Van. I don’t deserve this.”

I sigh. “Yeah, you do. If it makes you feel any better, next time I’ll buy something for myself if I have extra cash, okay? It’s not a lot. Can’t take it back now, anyway. Don’t worry about it.”

“What do you really do for money?”

“Just. Stuff. Not-legal stuff. You know.”

“I don’t know. You said it was the same kind of work as that first time, when we made a delivery…”

“Yeah,” I say. “It’s… Yeah. It’s that. Sometimes.”

“And the rest of the time?” she says.

“It’s not important. It’s… I’m fine.”

“Van. Please. Don’t –” She swallows. “Jake kept saying he was just 'taking care of some business’, and he was really meeting with Adrian. Is there something bad you’re not telling me?”

“Oh. No. God. It’s not like that.” I rub my face. “I’m not plotting anything. It’s… I just… It’s work. It’s mortal work. It’s illegal.”

“More illegal than stealing, smuggling, or murder?”

“No. I’m just. Not proud of it. And I don’t want you to feel bad.”

“Are you – Is it what I think it is?” she asks quietly.

I almost say, 'Probably,’ but just in case she thinks I’m like, a hitman or something, I say, “I have sex for money.” I don’t look at her. Staring at the ceiling.

“Fuck, Van…”

I almost say, 'Yeah, that’s the tagline.’ I don’t say anything.

“Was Alexa…?”

“Ah. Not exactly. She – I mean. I guess.”

“Is it… with women?”

“Rarely.”

“But you’re –” She breaks off. I glance over for a second, enough to see she looks distressed. I look away again.

“It’s fine. It’s just work,” I say.

“It’s not fine! You shouldn’t have to – You’re basically –”

“Rune…”

“If you didn’t have to take care of me, you wouldn’t have to do this!”

“Yes, I would,” I say. “I’m human now. I’d still have to feed myself.”

“But maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, maybe you could get into the shelters easier, and you wouldn’t have to buy me food too, or, or stupid candy, or –”

“I said I’d take care of you, and I meant it. Don’t feel guilty about this. It’s not your fault. This is what I’m – it’s what a p- what a person is supposed to do. They’re supposed to sacrifice for… for their… for the people they –” I stumble over the words, trying not to say what I avoided earlier. “The people they’re taking care of.”

“But I don’t deserve this! All I am is a liability. You have to worry about me all the time. I don’t do anything. I couldn’t even teach you magic. I can’t even…” She’s all worked up, starting to cry now. “One of my dad’s books was a first edition Alice in Wonderland. I don’t even know how he got it, but it was worth… millions. I could have… I was going to…”

I sit up. That’s a huge blow. But I don’t have the energy anymore to be mad at people who made a crap situation worse. It’s not like Alexa was trying to screw us out of money – She woulda just stolen my phone, too, if she was.

“It’s not your fault. You’re not a liability,” I say. “You deserve it because you’re you. I care about you, so I take care of you.”

“You wouldn’t even be human if it wasn’t for me. Mark would never have shown up.”

“I wouldn’t have gone through a lot of stuff, if not for lots of random domino effects I never knew about until too late. It doesn’t matter. You didn’t turn me human, and Marcus is gone.”

“But what if you get an STD? What if you get pregnant?!”

That word sends a chill down my spine. “I – won’t. I’m safe.”

“There’s no such thing as perfectly safe sex, Van. What if something goes wrong?” she says.

Jeez, now who sounds like whose parent? “I know. I know. But this is just… it’s… I don’t know what else to do, Rune. I’m sorry.”

“But you can’t do this forever. There has to be something we can do. Is there anybody left you can call?”

“All tapped out.”

“What about your sire?”

—

October 29.

My sire is not an easy man to find.

He keeps showing up, if you know what to look for. Someone’s uncle, grandfather, brother. Sometimes his own descendant. Charles Hewitt the Third. Charlie Frances. Uncle Chuck. But he’s existed for fucking ever, so it’s the worst time trying to follow his bread crumbs.

He’s not a social media kind of person. Maybe he will be, decades from now, when being on Facebook looks outdated. He always acts a little outdated for the date. Plays chess in the park. Complains about rock-'n’-roll down at the lodge. Reads old hardbacks in his study, smooth jazz records playing in the background.

Not like I can talk about being outdated. Problem is he’s tough to track. For a guy with his fingers in all kinds of financial pies, he might as well not be anywhere on the grid. Or maybe rich people are just that tough to find in general. Or just vampires.

I get a text from Windbreaker Man. He asks if I’m busy. I say I got done being busy an hour ago. I’m going home to sleep the rest of the day. He says I better take a detour to a Halloween store instead. I ask why.

“Party tomorrow night. Rich friends. Nice party. Buy a sexy costume. Nothing stupid.”

I instantly want to buy the stupidest costume possible. A ketchup bottle or something. A sheet with eyeholes. A Pokemon.

I just text, “Okay.”

He texts, “Could be a big break for you. Rich friends going to be there.”

“You said that.”

“Networking opportunities, doll.”

“Okay.”

I detour to the damn party store. I hate everything in the women’s section. Stupid pinup bullshit, not my style at all, but whatever.

I buy a vampire costume because of course I do.

—

October 30.

It’s hard to appreciate all the chicks in hot costumes here, 'cause I know they’re not here for fun. I recognize a bunch of them too. Wallflower and chat when I can, but Windbreaker Man (not wearing said windbreaker) keeps popping over, ordering me to mingle with the guests.

At least middle-aged guys share a lot of common ground with pop culture knowledge and shit. Conversation’s tolerable. Young and old, I also realize these are a bunch of important dudes. A couple local politicians. No surprises there.

I pretend to be super interested in 'em, think they’re all hot shit, ask 'em to namedrop famous and rich people to me. Throw out some other big names myself, “Did you ever get to meet celebrity so-and-so?”

I drop Charles Hewitt’s name in each time. Lotsa guys have heard the name somewhere but can’t remember how. Two met him. I fish for details on whens and wheres.

Eventually each dude gets bored talking and gets around to what he’s here for. This or that dude every so often disappears with his doll of choice to another room. I go on the merry-go-round a few times. Then people just come back and keep partying. It’s fucking surreal. And exhausting. God.

Sex isn’t the only item at the buffet. Our host peddles drugs, booze, contacts for other contraband, and opportunities for illegal-style schmoozing where the politicians and businessmen talk about deals that don’t go on paper.

Party goes 'til dawn. Guests leave. Girls clean up the place after. Windbreaker hovers, sitting at the kitchen bar. With the place cleared out, I think I remember being here before. I dunno. I’ve been doing a lot of not-remembering shit for a while on purpose.

We all collectively collapse on the available seating after. Heels come off. Nobody sits up straight with nobody to impress anymore. Half the group’s drunk as hell or high as balls. I’m sober. Always sober. But I get it. Can’t judge.

Windbreaker collects his cut. I get up to leave as soon as my money’s in my purse.

“Wait a minute,” he says. “Upstairs. Got something to ask you.”

We go to a bedroom. Yeah, figures. He doesn’t make a move though, which doesn’t figure.

“You did alright,” he says.

“Thanks.”

“Might get some future long-term clients.”

“Okay.”

“You barely talk to me. Chatty enough downstairs though.”

I shrug. “What do you want?”

“Proposition. No, just a suggestion. An offer,” he says. “Things are tight for you. Economy’s hard on all of us. Winter’s coming soon. New York winters aren’t easy.”

“Mhm.”

“You’re feeding two people. Only one’s working. Your… friend, niece, though, she –”

I cut him off. “Is not going to be involved. Ever.”

“Hear me out. She’s blonde, young. Teenager, right? Virgin? Some friends of mine would pay a lot to –”

I march over to him, pull the gun out of my purse, and put it up under his jaw. His shock’s priceless. Never knew I carried.

“If you ever so much as look at her again, I will put this gun up your ass and I will hold the trigger down until all I hear is 'click’. Do you fucking understand me?”

“Crystal.”

I consider killing him anyway. He’d deserve it. Right now all my rage is back, burning hot, right at him. I glare for a full minute, thinking, not saying anything, not moving. He stares back, too afraid to move or talk either.

I lower the gun and step back. “Good.”

I leave. Suddenly not tired anymore. Wired with adrenaline now. With the fresh info in my head about Chuck, I pull out my phone and start searching. I can narrow things down. As I’m walking, or on the subway, the whole way I’m searching.

I find something. One of his offices. I call. A secretary answers. I tell her to take down a message for Charles.

“Vanessa Renard is alive and healthy,” I say. “Don’t write down that I’m down 'well’ or 'fine’. Write 'alive and healthy’. Specifically those words.”

“Anything else?” she asks.

“Mm. Yeah. Write down that I’m in a position to begin making regular donations.”


	4. Donor

November 1.

“Happy Halloween,” I say to Rune, plopping down with a bag of post-Halloween-discount candy.

I get a call partway through eating it. Unknown number. I answer.

“Hello?”

“Why, hello, Vanessa,” Uncle Chuck says.

“Oh.” I oughta feel shock or something at the voice. Nope. “Hey.”

“You left me quite an interesting message, I must say. Am I on speaker, dear?”

“No.”

“Is anyone around who shouldn’t be?”

I look at Rune. “No.”

“Good. I am incredibly curious as to what you meant. Would you elaborate for me?”

“I’m human now. Mortal. Living. A… guy with like… divine magic or something, did it. I’ve never heard of it happening before, ever.”

“Could you send me a photo of yourself?”

I take a selfie and send it to him.

“Hm. You do appear human, but that can be faked. Have you any other way to prove it? As I recall, you were not long for this world last time.”

“The guy’s magic cured my diseases too. How should I prove it?” I ask.

“Video. Prick your arm, or the like.”

I do some finagling to balance the phone up while recording, and nick my arm a little with my knife. I squeeze to force some blood out. I send the video clip to Chuck.

“Vanessa, pardon my saying so, but your surroundings are deplorable. Where are you?” he says.

“My apartment. It’s a shit-hole. So you can probably guess why I wanna get in touch again. I got turned human, and the guy taking care of me kicked me out and canceled my debit card. I have a, uh, a dependent.”

“You had a child?”

“She’s a friend. I’m taking care of her. She’s not related to me.”

“I assume you are fully willing to relocate for any arrangement we might make,” he says.

“Yes.”

“Can you fly?”

I think about that for a second. Fake IDs, Rune’s a missing child, we have a gun and multiple knives.

“No,” I say.

“I expected not. I shall arrange for your transportation. How soon can you leave?” Chuck says.

“As soon as possible.”

Tickets arrive the next day. Rune and I are already packed. We catch a train at Penn Station. Nobody scans or checks our bags. Leaving New York takes a huge weight off my shoulders. Never have to see anyone there ever again.

The ride’s two days long with no layovers. On the way there, we finally get some sleep.

—

November 4.

Train stops in Alabama, we use our other tickets to catch a Greyhound up to Chattanooga, Tennessee. A guy who’s not Chuck is waiting at the station for us. No sign or anything, just knows my face apparently, comes right over to ask that it’s me.

The guy drives us off in a plain car. I think I should feel nervous, but it’s not hitting yet. It’s a long drive. We pull up to a place set away from the city. Nice-looking, big, two-story house with lots of green and trees around it. Guy shows us in and leaves.

It’s how I remember it, which is weird since I’ve never been here. It looks like Chuck’s place back in Salem, though. Warm decor, kinda old-fashioned, knick-knacks on the mantle without looking cluttered. No photos hanging up, just art.

Chuck’s sitting there in a leather recliner, in a tweed suit with elbow patches and suspenders. He’s just like I remember, too. Wavy white hair, black pince-nez glasses.

He doesn’t move for a second, and then he stands suddenly, smiling. “Ah, welcome. It has been a while, hasn’t it, Vanessa?”

They’ve both heard of each other now, but I introduce them anyway. Rune’s kinda standoffish and guarded. Understandable. Chuck is… I don’t know. All warm and friendly and soft-spoken. Like he used to be. Like he is to humans. He knows she knows he’s a vampire, but I guess it doesn’t matter, the nice act stays up. Hard to tell where acting starts and ends, with him.

He feeds us dinner and questions us while we eat. Mostly wondering how I turned human. We tell him about Marcus. Chuck asks how I’m feeling after that, physically. I say I’m fine, doc said I was fine, he says he wants to have someone double-check.

He keeps trying to figure out about Rune. Where she’s from, what her real name is, who her family is. She evades everything or throws out fake answers. I don’t correct her.

We mostly give him the run-down of our hunting adventures so far. We leave out the stuff about Silas’s journal or Rune’s destiny and visions.

Once the two of us finish eating, he asks to see me in his office. The question makes me flinch. I say sure. He tells Rune there’s a flat-screen TV in the other room and she can watch whatever she wants while she waits.

Chuck leads me to his office. We sit at his desk. I hear the TV, barely.

“How much does she know about our kind?” he asks.

“Not much. Just what she’s seen me do. What I’m capable of. Uh. Was,” I say. “She kinda knows there are different types of vampires, but nothing about them.”

“Have you fed from her?”

“No.”

“Are you her legal guardian?”

“No.”

“Then you are, by law, her kidnapper. We don’t need to pretend you’ve acquired her parents’ permission to travel with her,” he says. “How have you been sustaining her all this time, ever since your wizard friend left?”

“Uh. Um. Just. Stuff,” I say. “I don’t think we really need to go into details.”

“Mm. Illegal activities, then?”

“Yes.”

“Then you have put yourself in a precarious position. Have you been arrested?”

“Once. Charges got dropped.”

“You realize that I have never had to re-patron any of my wards like this,” Chuck says. “I do prefer to cover my bases legally. This will be tricky. I assume you wish to keep her.”

“That’s – not the word I’d use for it? I’m not throwing her out, though,” I say.

“I must be frank, here. What benefit does she bring you?”

“I… I mean, she’s a good fighter. When we were monster hunting, she’d help kill the monsters. I just, I don’t need a reason. I care about her. And you taught me to be loyal. No matter what.”

“Your survival supersedes sentimentality,” he says softly, shaking his head. “You lasted this long, at least. You’re resourceful enough. I will consider maintaining the old agreements with the Renard line. First, your wrist. A meal for a meal.” He reaches over.

I balk. He never bit me before. I let him take my wrist, and he bites. It hurts, but it’s like a shot, tensing up will only make it worse, so I keep relaxed. He stops after a minute, and presses a handkerchief on the bite, holding it.

“You are healthy,” he confirms. “At least, your blood is. If any of your old diseases had returned, it would effect your blood.”

“Thanks.” It doesn’t feel like a compliment though. More like I’m a car and he just kicked the tires. No, wait. More like livestock. Yeah. I feel weirdly meek and prey-like suddenly.

“The two of you may stay here for a while until I find you better accommodations,” he says.

“‘Better’ how?”

“Two girls hardly need an estate of this size. I’m sure you would prefer your privacy as well, yes? Unless you would prefer to stay here.”

He smiles. I realize some things: I don’t wanna stay here to be a live-in snack whenever he feels like, I don’t wanna have Rune around him any more than necessary, and he doesn’t want us living here either. He’s got other people to feed on, and doesn’t want all his lines getting crossed.

“Privacy sounds great,” I say.

“Then it’s settled. After I iron out the legal side of things,” Chuck says, “I’ll help you rejoin human society by finding you a nice home, job, and husband.”

“Ah- uh. What?”

“This is quite the investment I’m making, Vanessa. I’m not just investing in you. I’m investing in the future Renards. You’ll need to do your part in restoring the family.”

I flush. “I’m not into men.”

He doesn’t seem surprised. He doesn’t seem bothered either. “It’s not a matter of what you’re 'into’. Even today, marriages are often made for practical reasons. Marry rich, have a child or two, and arrange for him to die in an accident once you’re done with him.”

“Uncle Chuck,” I say, trying to pull my wrist away by now. His hand doesn’t budge. “I don’t – I never –”

“Now, Vanessa. Where are you even going to go?”

Fuck. It’s the damn pimp, all over again. Weather’s getting cold, doll.

“I – I’m not doing that to Rune,” I say. “I’m not going to force a stepfather into her life.”

“Plainly speaking, then, but does she need to be in your life at all?” Chuck asks softly. He still won’t let go. He’s not squeezing or pulling, but his arm’s like a statue, I can’t get my wrist free.

“Yes! Just – Uncle Chuck. Please. Just. I – Does it have to be a marriage? Can’t I just…” I feel sick. Wanted to never deal with this again.

“I suppose suing for child support is one way. A marriage just makes everything much more convenient.”

The thought of having some guy, in my house, with 'convenient’ access any time he wants, makes me feel sicker, more scared. I can’t be sold off again. Can’t do it.

But I can’t just say no. Rune and I are completely off the grid now, nobody knows we exist, that we’re here. If I don’t agree, Chuck’s going to finish me off now. We’re not leaving this house alive without a deal made.

“What about a – a donor,” I say. “Sperm bank? You get to pick, then, make sure the guy’s healthy and… you don’t have to worry about if a husband cheats and puts his mistress in the will instead, and…”

Chuck hums, thinks. “If you’re going to be this difficult about a little sex.”

“Please.”

He lets go. I yank my arm back, sigh in relief.

“I make this concession only because of your unusual good health,” Chuck says. “And your… return to humanity is unheard of. I’ll arrange a doctor’s appointment. You’ll need to be tested up and down, with every scan they can throw at you.” He laughs a little. “Try to talk your little friend into giving blood too, won’t you?”

I just nod. I’m totally not telling Rune to do that. “Thank you.”

“Now, is there anything else?”

“N- Wait. Yes. Um… I have some intel on some people, in case you, uh. Need to use it against anyone.”

“What kind of intel, dear? And what kind of people?”

“Like, politicians, businessmen, some guys in law. I uh. Can name a lot of them that make shady deals, do hard drugs, and… patron prostitutes.” I clear my throat. “I don’t know if that’s the kind of – If you work like that, but. If you want. I can name some names and crimes.”

Chuck laughs quietly. “I would never have expected this from the Vanessa I knew before. You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?” he says. “Why yes, dear. You can write up a report for me, and we’ll see which parts I find entertaining. Either way, I’m sure you won’t share it with anyone else, yes?”

“Yes. Of course. I haven’t told anyone.”

“Good. Now, let’s get you two some rest.” Chuck stands.

I get up and follow him out. Rune’s lounging in front of the TV, watching some movie. Chuck shows us where a guest bedroom is. Not “the” guest bedroom, because this place is big enough to have more than one. Then he goes back to his office.

The big house is quiet. I don’t hear traffic, like, at all. Just wind, crickets, night birds. Everything’s so clean, and warm, and decorated. It’s like I’m on an alien planet, I’m not used to this luxurious shit.

Rune looks out in the hallway, then closes and locks the door. “Van, we have to get out of here,” she says quietly.

“What?” I say.

“I heard everything. I was listening at the door after I turned the TV on. You can’t let him force you into this.”

I sigh. “It’s… fine. It’s better than… a lot of alternatives. This is already a helluva lot better than before.”

“How is it any different?! Just because it’s a nice house, doesn’t make this any better! This is just…” Rune looks antsy. “It feels wrong.”

“We won’t be in this house for long,” I say. “And I’m not… I won’t have to sleep with anyone this way.”

“It’s still –”

“Please,” I sigh. “Rune, I’m just, god, I’m so tired. I just need one day to finally stop and rest. I haven’t had a good night’s sleep since… ever. I had to make a decision on the spot, or I’m pretty sure he would’ve eaten us both. Even if he didn’t, he woulda kicked us out too, and we’d be right back at square one. Give me one day to rest before we talk about changing plans again.”

I step outta my shoes, flop onto the bed.

“Having to have a baby is a pretty big change of plans,” Rune mutters.

I roll onto my side to look at the wall.


	5. Procedure

November 5.

I get shuffled around from one medical center to another. Blood tests, X-rays, CT scans, ultrasounds in and out. Every kind of test you can do on a human, they do to me. Hours of staring at ceilings on hard little beds, in cold, silent rooms that smell like latex, metal, and cleaning supplies. It’s a damn carousel of wires, tubes, rods, swabs, and needles.

It all takes me back to growing up, in the worst possible way. I’m stressed beyond belief. All the clean bills of health can’t change that. Yeah, my body works great. Except it’s not mine anymore.

I can’t sleep at night either. I’m a mortal in a vampire’s den. I’m always afraid he’ll just change his mind, barge in, and kill us. Or just Rune. Trim her like a dead flower. I didn’t feel this paranoid on the streets. She keeps as close as possible, coming along on the doctor visits for morale.

The 10th comes and goes just the same. It’s my birthday. I don’t tell anyone. If Chuck remembers, he doesn’t mention it. It doesn’t matter, not even the weekend lets me have a break.

—

November 14.

As Rune and I are having breakfast, Chuck shows up. He doesn’t bother showing up to meals unless he has questions or directions.

“You officially now have a residence,” he says with a smile. “There’s a quaint little home for rent awaiting you both.”

I feel relieved. I also feel endangered. I just know it’s a quaint little cage. It isn’t my house, I don’t own it, I’m probably not even on the lease. It’s all his. So are we.

Rune doesn’t say anything. We get our bags, Chuck drives us there, hands over the papers with relevant info, drops the keys in my hand.

“Some essential furnishings should arrive later today,” Chuck says. “No need to worry about doing any of the heavy lifting yourself.”

“Thanks.”

“Congratulations on your new home,” he says, as if I’d done anything myself to get it. “Just in time. Tomorrow, you’ll have the first procedure.”

My stomach drops. He smiles, gets in his car, and drives away.

Rune taps the mailbox with her bat. “What procedure?”

“The one to… get pregnant,” I mutter. “Let’s go inside.”

We head in and drop our bags on the floor. It is, in fact, quaint. Two bed, one bath, small yard, not new.

“You don’t have to do it, Van,” Rune says. “I’ve fought monsters before. This thing can take out pretty much anything. I can fuck him up real good, if you want me to.” She swings the bat around the empty living room.

“I appreciate the offer,” I say. “But, uh… I don’t know if we can. He’s old, way older than I am, and more powerful than I was as a vampire.”

“We’ll never know if we don’t try.”

“We’re definitely not in his will, though. If he goes, we go. We’ll be back on the street.”

She sighs, lowers the bat. “I guess. Also… thanks. For not ditching me.”

The movers show up, unload some basics. Pretty bare-bones for now, but we have places to sit and sleep in here now. The last item is a small shelf, with a small stack of books about maternity and shit. One of the movers congratulates me. I say okay. He gives me a weird look. I walk away. The movers leave.

God, the more real it gets, the worse I feel about it. Tomorrow. That’s when it really starts. No turning back. No other options. Breed or die. I sit on the front step, feeling woozy all of a sudden.

Rune wanders out, sits next to me. “Are you okay?”

“I dunno. Kinda terrified. Gotta change my whole life. One way or another. Except ‘other’ is where we were at before.” I put my head in my hands. “This is gonna basically just force a – a kid into your life too. But I can’t think of anything else to do. It’s not the kind of problem I can fix by kicking somebody’s door down and shooting them. That’d just make things worse.”

She doesn’t say anything at first. “Do you still have any cash? I wanna get a milkshake.”

I say sure, and we walk off through the neighborhood to try to find where the houses end and the little businesses begin. I think she’s just doing this for my benefit.

Walking takes the edge off the panic attack. Fresh air’s nice. It’s damp, moderate, not too hot or cold. I make note of bus stops. We find the little businesses and strip malls, then finally a diner, as the afternoon goes on evening. We both order milkshakes.

The news plays on both TVs. It’s white noise while my mind wanders, until something snaps my brain back to it.

“– luxury cruise ship that departed from Florida earlier today is believed to have sunken,” the newscaster says. “Search and rescue vessels have already been dispatched to look for survivors, after a distress signal went out roughly two hours ago. All contact with the ship, and its passengers, has been lost. The total complement aboard the ship was –”

Rune and I stare at the screen, then stare at each other.

“But Adrian was exorcised,” Rune hisses. “What the hell?”

“Either he really wasn’t, or he’s not the one who made it sink,” I say. “Shit, though. He threatened to kill us if we weren’t on that boat to stop it.”

“If it left earlier today, he’s not in a big hurry to find us. So there’s that.”

“Someone’s probably pulling the strings. Because there’s always someone bigger and badder than the last someone.”

“Do you think Lark’s behind this too?”

“I mean, who knows at this point. Maybe they’re all working together.” I sigh. “We got so sidetracked from your mission. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I was the one who suggested we try contacting your sire.” She looks down at the table guiltily. “And now you’re… in this mess.”

“I –… It’s not your fault. He was our best bet. He still is. At least now, we can just, stop and breathe. We can try to research Lark and everything again. I’ll have lots of time to read now…”

—

November 15.

First procedure. I’m dropped off at the clinic as usual. I have a book to pass the time and not freak out. Definitely not one of the ones Chuck had delivered, though. Something fluffy from the library.

I get called in to see the doctor I’ve seen pretty much every day so far. Every visit’s the same. Hospital gown on, feet in stirrups, eyes on ceiling, brain checked out. Doesn’t feel like much has changed from New York at the rate I have my ankles in the air here.

“Are you excited?” the familiar doctor asks.

“Nervous.”

“Don’t worry,” she says with a smile, “for couples with fertility issues, IUIs have up to a twenty percent success rate. You don’t, so you’ll have a much better chance. It could work on the first try.”

That makes it much worse, but she has no idea, so I just nod and agree. She gets out a device that looks like a terrifying foot-long catheter attached to a syringe. I decide the vision chart on the other side of the room looks super interesting instead.

—

December 1.

Christmas season.

Never been religious, for at least a couple obvious reasons, but I like schmaltz and glitter. I get a cheap TV (we’re on an allowance. Probably not 'cause Chuck’s generous, but because he doesn’t wanna waste time buying groceries and shit.) I watch dumb holiday movies. I wonder if there’s actually a flying reindeer monster that the stories are based on.

Turns out the procedure didn’t take. Couldn’t find out for two weeks. Stressful as hell two weeks, not knowing if there was anything in the oven yet. I’d be relieved about the negative result, except it means I go in for another dozen tests at the clinic. Fun. Great.

Other than that, all the other testing’s done, and Chuck’s original plan to find me a job got shelved with the plan to put me on maternity leave as fast as possible. So like I said, plenty of time to do a lot of reading.

I get in touch with Zeke and Mike again for something I should’ve asked for a while ago: Another copy of Silas’s journal. They send the files over. Now Rune and I can get back to doing research.

The 15th rolls around. Another procedure. Another two weeks to wait.

Christmas happens first though.

No snow here. Just cold, cold rain, and lots of it. Oh well. Rune and I exchange gifts. She gives me a disco ball keychain. It’s goofy and I love it. She looks kinda surprised that I got her something – or surprised to see wrapping paper with her name on it.

Her reaction to the new copy of Alice in Wonderland is underwhelming, though. I was hoping it’d help, replacing something she lost. She says thanks but doesn’t seem too excited. Damn, next time I’ll save up for one of those game systems.

“That’s not the, uh, main gift though,” I say. “But you’ll have to wait 'til tomorrow.”

“Why? What is it?”

“A surprise, duh.”

On the 26th, I bring her on a bus ride to hop over the state border to Alabama. We stop in the first town there. I have her close her eyes for the last leg of the walk to our destination.

“Okay, open 'em.”

She does. She gasps. “For real?!”

We’re standing in front of a tattoo parlor.

“Jacob’s not here to say no,” I say. “So, yes, really. Whatever you want. Go nuts.”

“Hell yeah!”

Part of my research was finding out where we could do this. Alabama’s got no minimum age for tattoos.

She works out a design that looks like a neon blue lightning bolt going all the way from her shoulder to elbow, woven with little Norse runes for strength, will, victory, honor, and protection. Dunno if it’ll do any real magic, but it looks pretty cool. She takes the needle like a champ.

Still no snow by New Year’s Eve. I take the test. I don’t even know what I want it to say anymore. There’s no winning here, just two different kinds of hell.

I get the second hell, foretold in little pink letters that totally overestimate the mood of people who read these things. I don’t wanna leave the room yet. If I leave, I have to tell Rune the result, and if I say it out loud then it’s real. I just need a little more time before it’s real yet.

I get in the shower and sit there until the water’s cold.


	6. Test

January 12, 2019.

I thought insatiable hunger was bad as a vampire, but apparently it’s nothing compared to the midnight urge to hit up a 24-hour grocery store for mac & cheese, orange chicken, and a jumbo jar of green olives. These cravings are fucking insane. I feel like I’d rather cut my toes off than disobey the little voice saying, “You know what you really need to do right now? Eat an entire cantaloupe.”

But whatever. Tolerable. The morning sickness is way less tolerable. I hoped that giving in to the cravings would put a stop to that, but no. They’re independent phenomena. Doc says the nausea goes away eventually, at least. Rune looks guilty every time I run off to be sick.

One day she gets up and says we need to go to a diner. I say okay. We hop a bus. It’s freezing cold outside, but she still wants a milkshake. Go figure. I get a big hot breakfast platter.

“Is this really what you want?” she asks.

“Yeah, it’s too cold out for milkshakes, and I’m craving bacon hard enough to bite it off the pig right now.”

“No, I mean… that.” She nods down, and it takes me a second to realize she’s not nodding at the food.

“Ah.” I think while I chew. “Not like this.”

“Wouldn’t you rather be a vampire again?”

“I mean. I do. It’s just, uh. Like, it’s not that I don’t – that I never – I mean, I hate this right now. I don’t like that I didn’t get to…”

“Get to what?”

“I – I guess having a kid’s always been a thing that was on my mind, but it always just got pushed way to the back-burner, because like, I was never in a spot where having one was… safe. For either of us. And then… being… gay, there’s been legal…” I sigh, and cram in another piece of bacon whole to give myself more time to think.

“I thought maybe once I got a hold of my vampirism, I could try to settle down. If I didn’t feel like monster hunting anymore. I didn’t wanna just be forced into it. Especially not to just make a, a fucking blood sacrifice to save my own skin.”

“But it’s not just your own skin…”

“Yeah. I know. Look, it’s not your fault.”

Rune lowers her voice, but we don’t have to talk quietly, because nobody’s here. Not at this hour, or this temperature. “You don’t think he’s actually going to… eat it?”

“…Not… right away. Not lethally. But tap for blood every so often, once it’s old enough? Yeah. He will.”

Makes me wonder about my birth. Wonder how much my parents knew. Wonder how much it mattered. This is the whole boat every Renard’s been in forever, I guess. Still makes me wonder if my dad ran off to the fucking war on purpose once he gave our vampire the minimum heir.

“So if you could,” Rune says, “if you could change back right now, would you?”

I don’t answer right away. “I don’t know. I– the thing is, before, my choice was, ‘change or die’. I’m not gonna die. Yet. Probably.”

I feel a little wave of sick fear. Lots of things can go wrong with pregnancy, with birth…

I shake my head. “This – kids – wasn’t anywhere close to being on the table back then. If I changed back right now, I dunno if I’d ever… I, I mean I know that, uhm, adoption is still…”

I stare at the plates and keep eating. There’s lots more I could say, but I don’t think she’d wanna hear it. Wouldn’t want me to say I basically already see her as a daughter, and if we ever found her brother I’d take him in too. I feel bad, feel like I’m forcing a replacement little sibling on her, when she’s still dealing with losing the first.

“What about in the future?” she asks.

“You mean a little over nine months in the future? I… guess… maybe… Maybe longer than that.” Another piece of bacon, another minute to think. “I’m afraid to turn back, a little. I want to, but, the first time, I went feral enough that I woulda killed anything with a pulse. I would’ve eaten my own grandparents. I dunno how long it’d take to get myself under control again. And I don’t wanna hurt you, or… it.”

Yeah, I know, you’re not supposed to call babies 'it’. If I think about it as a 'them’ or a 'who’ or a 'baby’ right now, I’m gonna flip out, so for now it’s an 'it’.

“But that’s something you still want someday?” she says.

“Yeah. Just… gotta take precautions…”

“What if you didn’t have to have this baby, but you could still just have another one later?”

“Well yeah. That’d be a better situation. If I could just choose when any of this shit happens in my life, then –” I stop and sigh. “Sorry. Not mad at you. Just everyone else, I guess.”

She still looks guilty, like I just scolded her.

“Ugh, no, Rune, no, don’t…”

“It’s okay…”

“No, god, I hate it when you act like this is all your fault. Please.”

“I just want to help.”

“It’s not your responsibility to –”

“Van, you’ve stuck by my side this whole time. You didn’t have to. I want to help however I can, whatever you need me to do. Chuck was right about one thing: Loyalty is powerful.”

I dunno what to say at first, but I can’t leave her hanging, so I reach over to squeeze her hand gratefully. If I talk now, my voice is gonna crack. Fuckin’ hormones. After a few deep breaths so I won’t choke up, I say, “Thank you.”

—

March 2.

Rune helps out around the house, but there isn’t a lot I really need from her there. Mostly I’m just glad she’s around. We go out to the diner a bunch, movies and stuff sometimes, in-between library trips for research. I save up enough allowance to get her a new phone. She says we shouldn’t do any research on 'em, just in case Chuck has 'em bugged or something.

I’d get her a new game system too, but I have to start buying new clothes instead. Ugh.

I always liked femininity as a take-it-or-leave-it thing. I haven’t put on a dress since New York. Looking butch is a weird kinda security blanket, it gives me more control, makes me feel more confident. Pretending to be an FBI agent was awesome, striding around, flashing whatever name on whatever ID I want, nobody questions it because nobody fucks with anybody in a black suit.

Now I got tits I can’t hide, and I hate it. Unless I’m with a hot chick and we’re already naked, I’m not generally a fan of havin’ tits. Not only did they go up a whole damn cup size (for what?! SLOW DOWN!) but they hurt, too. Just in general. As a fun reminder they exist, in case I couldn’t already notice.

Starting to show in general. Hate that, too. All my shirts stop fitting. So I buy new ones. All men’s. New pants, too. I’ll need 'em soon. I grab some suspenders for the future, because like hell am I ever trading pants for some dumb, frilly, empire-waist bullshit.

I hate how this takes my control away. My confidence. My can’t-be-fucked stride. Feels like New York again, just a new way of selling my body off, losing my choices in what I’m allowed to wear. Feels like being a kid again, at the whims of whatever my grandparents made me wear. Feels like being a dying invalid again, sick and invaded.

I can’t think of this as a 'pregnancy’. Nope. Just another transplant my body’s trying to reject. Just a sickness I gotta power through. And then suddenly at the end of it, the stork’ll drop a brand new kid on the doorstep.

At least I can keep wearing my Aviators.

—

March 20.

Springtime, and we’re halfway to seeing the stork.

Halfway through hell. Except then there’ll be a new kid to take care of. And this one won’t come with its own baseball bat to protect itself with.

Whatever. Weather’s warming up, little by little. I liked winter as a vampire, but it sucks as a human.

I have another regular appointment at the clinic. Rune isn’t hovering around protectively like before, so she doesn’t come along. She’s not hanging around the house in general that much. I guess now that we’re technically settled, she’s not stressing out about me getting mugged or murdered.

Doc does some kinda DNA test on the, uh, it, makes sure it doesn’t have deformities. None, so, cool. Wouldn’t wanna have to start over. (Pretty sure Chuck would make me.) The doc does the first ultrasound I’ve had in a while. I have super mixed feelings about it. There’s a heartbeat. Freaks me out.

“Do you want to know the sex of the baby?” the doc asks.

“You. Uh. You can tell?”

She smiles. “Not every parent wants to know. It’s up to you. Do you have any names picked out yet?”

The floor drops out from under me. For a few seconds I’m at the bottom of a huge wind tunnel, with a little tha-dunk-tha-dunk at the top. “Ah, crap.”

Doc’s laugh snaps me back. “You have plenty of time to narrow down the list. And don’t forget, you can use your second-favorite for a middle name.”

I almost say, 'I don’t wanna name it because then it’s real, ya dumb broad!’ I don’t say that. I stare at the ceiling, take a deep breath. “Okay.”

“Relax. The most dangerous trimester is over.”

I almost say, 'No, that’s the one right after it’s born, because I’m back on the menu when I’m not eating for two myself’.

“Okay.”

“So do you want to know?”

Another deep breath. Don’t wanna think about it, but I think about it. I finally say no. She says okay.

After the appointment, I head home to change. Chuck wants Rune and I over. Or rather, he extended a kindly and civil invitation for us to join him for a meal at his home. No pressure. None on paper. But, y'know.

No need to bus there, 'cause his guy with the car shows up to get us. We didn’t RSVP, but obviously our arrival was never in question. Chuck’s all smiles when he welcomes us at the door.

“Why Vanessa, you’re coming along marvelously,” he says.

I flush. “Thanks.”

I can’t really complain once dinner’s set out. I heap my plate with something of everything.

Small talk’s made. He asks Rune about her tattoo. It’s not visible under her hoodie sleeve right now, so I dunno when he saw it, but I don’t like that. Rune just glares at him, shrugs, doesn’t answer.

He just smiles a little. Doesn’t ask her again, 'cause his point’s been made. Instead he asks me how the doctor’s appointment went. I say it went fine. He pesters me for the results of everything, no matter how much I try to change the subject. I just gotta endure it. He’s disappointed I didn’t find out the sex.

“I suppose that will make baby shower gifts slightly difficult to tailor,” he sighs.

“Does it count as a shower if I have all of two guests?” I say. “That’s just a drizzle.”

He ignores the comment. “Green is a decently unisex color. Or brown, even.”

“Mm. Purple. Hot grape purple. Actually, I can switch it between blue and pink every day just to throw people off.”

“How garish.”

“Perfect.”

“You’ll need to think about setting up a nursery soon,” he says. “Have you given thought to names, yet?”

God, they’re in league with each other.

“Lots of celebrities go for some really unique names. I think I’ll try out something like that. How about Zankman Apple-Truck Renard?”

Chuck makes a noise like he would’ve choked on a drink if he had one. “If that’s what you really want.”

Rune suddenly flinches back from her coke glass with a curse. Her lip’s bleeding.

“Oh dear,” Chuck says, standing up. “I’ll take that. Here, put a cloth to it. There you are.”

Something about that is awfully familiar.

Rune swats his hand away, the one offering a napkin. “Don’t touch me,” she mutters, glaring. She sucks the blood off her lip.

“My apologies,” he says, not bothered. “I’ll be right back with a different glass. Looks like this one has a chip in it.”

I follow him into the kitchen. “Hey. Didn’t I cut my lip on the same –”

He’s licking the drop of blood off the side. He gives me a flat look, not even caring that I caught him. “Yes.”

“That… what?”

He takes down a new glass, pours the drink into it. “A test, dear.”

“A taste-test.”

“Would you rather I bit her wrist?”

“Um, no? I would rather you didn’t, like, drink from her at all.”

“Everyone in the family is tested eventually. She’s just had her seventeenth birthday. She was overdue for evaluation. I will not be sneaking into your little house to feed off her like some depraved creature, but I like to keep apprised of the health of my subjects.”

“Her…” I frown. Rune never told me her birthday. But I never told her mine either, so I guess that’s fair.

“Let’s not keep her waiting, Vanessa.”

The next day, Rune and I agree Chuck’s totally been spying on us. He knows about the tattoo, the ultrasound, her birthday. I decide to call him up and call him out. He says he’s just aware of charges made to the card, and he saw the tattoo parlor on there. I ask how he knows it wasn’t me. He says he knows I hate needles, and I wouldn’t have to go out of state anyway since I’m not a minor. I say fine, that’s fair.

I make a mental note to get cash outta ATMs from now on, so he doesn’t know every little thing I buy.

I ask about the doctor stuff, since I’m making my own appointments these days. He says same thing, I’m on his insurance, he knows the charges, the individual procedures. Great. So if I ever get an embarrassing rash, he’ll know what brand of cream the doc prescribes for it.

I ask about Rune’s birthday. He laughs and sighs at me, asks why I didn’t think he’d go researching this stranger I’m taking care of. I ask how he knew who she really was. He says he has his ways. I ask him what ways. He says the important part’s that her mother and stepfather won’t be a legal burr in our side anymore, 'cause Rune’s custody’s been transferred to me.

I ask why he didn’t just transfer it to himself, since he likes being in control so much.

“I’m not in the habit of making myself liable for criminal negligence charges,” Chuck says, “in the very likely occurrence your little friend does something foolish and gets herself hurt. I can tolerate a delinquent on my dime, but the responsibility is entirely yours, Vanessa.”

I mutter thanks, wrap up the call. I look at Rune, since of course I was letting her listen in to the whole thing.

She glares at the phone. “What a fucking prick.”


	7. Escape

March 31.

Rune hangs around less and less. Research and stuff, or hitting up skate parks as the weather warms up. I don’t get to escape as much, ‘cause I have to start seriously prepping this place for… it.

The idea to get her a game system keeps getting pushed back. I give her cash from the ATM when I can, so she can still get herself books or whatever when she wants to. The rest of the money goes into turning half my bedroom into a nursery. This way, only one of us should get woken up by the horrible middle-of-the-night screaming fits.

All this responsible house-managing crap keeps me from getting out and doing a lot of anything else. And I’m tired. More than normal tired. I take so many naps.

When I finally have a break from going around to superstores and waiting for deliveries, I offer going with Rune to the library. She says at this point I shouldn’t worry about researching Lark and monsters anymore, and I should research baby things. It’s weird to hear her say it, and it sucks to think about it, but she’s right. Ugh.

I get a call from Zeke one day while I’m looking up baby crap on the phone. I answer. He asks if I still have that copy of the journal files. I get a bad feeling and I don’t know why.

“No, I deleted them to make room on my phone,” I lie. “I can’t go monster hunting anymore anyway.”

“Why not? Because of Jacob?”

I snort. “I’m retired now. Decided to settle down and start a family. Why, did you lose your copy?”

He say the files went missing off his phone. Mike’s too. The physical copies are gone too – they had a bunch of prints made before. All gone.

“Maybe it’s a sign. You two should settle down and have some kids too,” I say.

He doesn’t think that’s funny.

After some dumb small-talk, I go to the library anyway. Rune’s not there anymore. I look up Jacob Baker. Most recent hit’s the news spot about the wedding. I get a little twitch of anger. I look up Jacob Rivers. There we go. Well, he exists. That’s all I got. Important thing is no obits.

I look up Marcus Goldenbaum next. He’s in New York with some family, looks like. Alive and well. Okay, fine.

Not that I’d be too upset if either got hit by a bus lately, but I’m getting a little paranoid about anybody who’s ever seen those journals.

I realize that if my phone’s bugged, Chuck’s probably seen those files too. Right? I have no idea how the hell wiretapping a wireless phone works. I can’t tell if it’s a good or a bad thing either. Downside is, he knows some mortals know Cain’s a monster, though it doesn’t look like he gives a crap. Upside is, anyone trying to erase this journal’s existence will have a helluva hard time getting through Chuck to do it. He probably has a copy on laminated sheets in an underground vault by this point.

I head back home, call Chuck on another investigative whim. I make the pleasant small-talk he likes for a while, fill him all in on all the baby crap I’m putting in the house, tell him my actual name ideas.

I get around to asking what I want: “Did that intel about those guys come in handy, Uncle Chuck?”

“Vanessa, some topics are best had over tea, yes?”

So I go to his house. He serves me tea and cookies. Asks for a small bite of blood.

“Is that safe right now?” I ask.

“If it weren’t, I wouldn’t ask, now would I?”

I let him bite my wrist. He gives me a cloth to press on the bite after.

“Your blood is healthy. Now you know you haven’t developed gestational diabetes. We both benefit,” Chuck says. “Now, as for your earlier inquiry. Are you asking me if I’ve actually gone and used that knowledge?”

“I guess. I’m feeling vindictive.”

“Then you’ll be pleased to know one of them is already dead. Not by my hand, dear, I haven’t even been up that way in some time.”

“Really? Who? And how?”

He tells me a name. My skin crawls to hear it. It’s Windbreaker Guy.

“He was murdered about a week after you left the city,” Chuck goes on.

“Murdered? Who did it?”

“Open case. He was stabbed. Not by a knife. Mystery weapon. Besides that, he had suffered some head trauma, and hypothermia.”

My mind goes to Jacob. Or another ice demon. But mostly Jacob. I met Windbreaker through Shady, who I met through Jacob. If he asked around it wouldn’t be hard to find out what happened to me. Did he get revenge against the guy for pimping me? Yeah, no. If he cared, he wouldn'ta thrown us to the dogs in the first place.

“My best guess,” Chuck says, “is the man was thrown into the river while alive, after being stabbed. Slammed his head around on rocks and bridges, or the like.”

“Well. Maybe. Who knows,” I say.

Chuck never directly answers my question. Go figure. At least it isn’t a wasted trip, but I could’ve just learned that at the library anyway.

As we’re wrapping up the chat, there’s some horrible squirming in my gut. I don’t mean that like a metaphor, where you feel so sick your guts squirm. I mean I feel honest-to-god movement, and it’s not mine.

I double over with a sick noise. “Oh god.”

“Vanessa?” Chuck sits up, alert. “What is it? Something wrong?”

“No. I don’t think. I – urrgh. It’s moving around in there.”

“Are you in pain?”

“No? It’s just… so damn creepy. Oh man, I hate this. Is this normal?”

He sighs, sits back again. “Yes. Perfectly normal. It means your baby’s alive and well. Congratulations, you’ve felt its first kick.”

“Can it kick more gently next time? What the hell. I’m getting Alien movie flashbacks.”

“You’ll get used to it, dear.”

—

April 27.

I’m showing more and more. Still sucks. It’s still kicking. I swear it hiccups in there sometimes, too.

Every time I look for advice and shit on the internet about all this, I end up on some dainty, pastel forum where everybody’s avatar is an identical-looking spud, and everybody uses schmoopy language about their “bundles of joy” and getting excited because it’s the size of an avocado or whatever now. That little rascal Kayeleighan kicked me right in the kidney while my husband was driving me to lamaze classes, tee and hee.

I chat with neighbors sometimes, and of course everybody’s noticed, everybody’s commenting, everybody’s asking questions. Everywhere I go, down the street, to the diner, the store, whatever, everybody’s got questions, advice, judgments. Do you know the sex? You got naaames yet? Does the faaather pamper you like a queeeeeen?

People get weird no matter what I say. Maybe I should lie. You say you don’t care about the sex and people are like, oh, you’re one of those liberals raising genderless kids. I say maybe let’s wait until it can actually pull its own pants up before asking what’s in said pants.

They say I’m obviously an abuser straight outta Hell for inflicting Hypothetical Future Person with all that inevitable teasing. I say schoolyard bullies are what hitmen are for. Find one that charges based on height, and you get a real bargain.

Nobody thinks that’s funny.

God though, I’m not an idiot. Of course I’m letting my kid use pronouns and wear gendered clothing. I remember high school. I wouldn’t have come out yet even if I knew I was gay, 'cause nobody wants to be THAT kid.

Every name you like, someone’s got a problem with it. Eugene’s too old-fashioned, Aisha’s too ethnic, shouldn’t Benny be Benjamin, nobody’ll spell Cyndi right, why would you name it after 80s pop stars anyway, didn’t you know Aiden’s popular, make sure it doesn’t rhyme with anything bad or kids will tease 'em.

Say you’re not married, people ask if he at least lives with you. Say no, and they ask if he’s in the picture. Say no, and they get all pity-faced and say (paraphrased, sugar-coated) they’re so sorry you’ve been abandoned by this soulless deadbeat.

Get impatient and sarcastically say you’re just a dyke who got shot up with a turkey baster to steal welfare from the government, and everybody suddenly remembers they left the oven on and they gotta go.

One chick asks me if I’m planning a “natural birth”. I ask if she means the kind where you wanna die because it hurts like satan’s ripping out your organs, and then you actually die because he succeeded. She lectures me about keeping my temple pure of toxins. I say that’s gonna be real hard, with all the tequila I knock back to fall asleep after snorting coke all day.

She doesn’t think that’s funny. I tell her my improv’s rusty, maybe she shouldn’t ask me bullshit while I’m standing in line at the grocery store.

I enter May and the third trimester. Every so often the little xenomorph kicks me awake. I warn it I’m gonna ground it for a week every time it does that. It doesn’t listen.

Unfortunately, my sleep-deprived, super sarcastic cranky streak turns into a stupid fight with Rune. We’ve never really argued before. It starts over dumb shit that doesn’t bother me otherwise. She’s gone all day while I’ve been cleaning. She gets home, tracks dirt on the floor from her skateboard, I snap at her about it, she rolls her eyes, huffs at me, cleans it up anyway.

But I’m cranky and stupid, remember, so I get mad that she’s making a deal out of it, so she gets mad I’m making a deal out of that. I yell about her being gone all the time when she said she’d help out. She says she was helping out, but then I never asked her to do anything, so she might as well go back to Plan A and do research to fulfill her destiny.

By the end, we both end up yelling, “WHATEVER!” and slamming our bedroom doors. Ugh.

I sleep in late the next morning, 'cause karate chops turned into a midnight piss run, which turned into a run to the store for more bacon and ice cream. Normal me might’ve said, 'Let’s just wait until morning.’ But normal me wouldn’t have started irrationally sobbing into the freezer for being empty. So.

The upside of all this is that I get to sit anywhere I want on the bus. Anybody who doesn’t let me dies instantly of shame. As they should.

Anyway, I get up at noon. Check the calendar, make sure nothing’s scheduled. Cool. I sleep in a little longer, screw it. Eventually gotta make another piss run though. Once I’m up, I might as well eat… breakfast? Lunch? Whatever.

I look around for Rune. Not home. I text her. No answer. Still mad at me, I guess.

Another couple hours go by. No word. Something feels wrong. I call her instead. I text to say I’m sorry. Still no answer. Maybe she’s in a movie with her phone silenced. Yeah.

Except there’s still no answer by night. I get freaked out. Maybe she’s just staying over at… god, I don’t know. She doesn’t really have any serious friends. She doesn’t go to school, so no classmates. There’s some kids she runs into at the skate parks sometimes. Don’t think she trusts anybody enough to sleep in a strange house, though.

More hours go by. I can’t sleep while worrying this hard. I try to think of what could’ve happened, who might’ve hurt her. All my answers point back at the same person, the only one who knows exactly where she lives, exactly what she knows.

I go straight to Chuck’s house. Don’t bother calling. I bang on the door until he answers.

“Where’s Rune?” I say.

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“Yes,” he says, “and I don’t know why you’re asking me. Where is she supposed to be, and why do you believe I know otherwise?”

“She’s missing, Chuck.”

“Have you called the police?”

“Would cops matter?” I say. “Only one person I can think of who knows about her and wants to eat her.”

“That’s quite the serious accusation, Vanessa. Didn’t I say I wouldn’t be doing that?”

“You’ve said a lot of things, and I know you say them just to get people to stay calm and put their guards down around you!” I shout.

“Oh, imagine that, wishing people stayed calm. If only it worked,” he says dryly.

“If you didn’t take her, then prove it!”

He looks me over, like he’s trying to decide if I’m worth his time. Finally he steps back to let me inside. “To my office, then. We’ll try tracking her phone.”

I shut the door behind me. “So you did bug our phones?”

“In a manner, yes. A useful precaution, it would seem.” He heads to the stairs.

“Do you read everything we say?”

“I have neither the time nor the interest. My initial concern was to ensure you didn’t plot against me.” He peeks his ruby eyes over his glasses for a second. “You are a monster hunter, after all.”

We reach his office. He sits down, starts typing away at his computer. I don’t sit, I stand back and watch. No point looking over his shoulder. I don’t understand that kind of tech stuff.

“Mm, can’t find her phone,” he says eventually. “Meaning she’s managed to remove the program, or disabled it some other way.”

“Or someone else did. Someone who didn’t want me to know where she really was.”

“If I had wanted her dead, I wouldn’t have let you waste so much money on her. Besides, she’s technically your family now. My loyalty extends to her as part of the pact.” He stands again. “I’m many things, but I try to be a man of my word.”

“That’s bullshit,” I growl. “You threw me away as soon as you could, 'cause you couldn’t feed on me. And then you took everything that shoulda been mine.”

“Is this about Rune, or an old grievance about your grandparents’ estate? Until recently, you’ve fared well enough without it.”

“It’s – You’re the kind of person to get rid of people who aren’t useful anymore!”

“I’m practical, yes,” he says. “Practical enough to realize that obliterating your trust in me by murdering your child would accomplish nothing. I’m not one to sate short-term hunger by sacrificing long-term investments.”

“How do I really know that?” I say. “She wouldn’t be the first person in my family you let die!”

He looks, for the first time, actually annoyed at me. “Your parents? Please. I didn’t want them to die any more than you did. Now, are we finished going over old history? Go home and call the police already.”

I can’t let this go, 'cause if I turn around now, I’ll never get answers. “No. No, you tell me what you did to her. You can’t pretend you weren’t planning something, not after that trick you pulled with the glass!”

“You may wish for an easy villain, but consider the likelihood of a difficult one instead,” he says. “Or the chance she may have simply decided this life is not to her liking, and she left for other pastures.”

“She wouldn’t,” I say. “She wouldn’t do that. Not after – No.”

“You prefer to imagine she’s been murdered, rather than that she left?”

“Just, just tell me what you know.” I draw my gun on him. “These bullets are enchanted,” I lie.

His hand snaps around my wrist faster than I can see. Before I can even try to squeeze the trigger, his hand squeezes until my fist opens. He catches the gun in his other hand, sets it on the shelf behind him.

“Don’t do that again,” he says, very softly.

“Just – Dammit!” I try to pull away. “Dammit! Damn you, fuck you! You can find her! Get her the fuck back, or I –”

He moves around the desk in three quick strides, twists my arm to yank me back against him, as if I were light as paper. His other hand pulls my shirt collar aside.

“Wait,” I squeak.

He lets go of my wrist to take hold of my throat instead, and he bites the crook of my neck and shoulder. I flinch but I can’t struggle, 'cause any twitch makes him tighten his grip on my throat.

“Wait, please –”

He just bites down harder. Cold pain spreads through my chest. I’m terrified, thinking he’s just going to kill me now, he’s not gonna stop drinking. I can’t move, can’t fight back.

Chuck takes my hand, brings it up to my shoulder, puts it over the bite in the same second he finally unlatches. He clamps my palm over the punctures, keeps his hand over mine. The other one’s still on my throat.

He speaks quietly. “You’ve shown up unannounced to waste my time with baseless accusations. You’ve threatened me with a gun. You’ve broken several rules, and come very close to breaking our agreement.”

I start to talk, but his thumb alone is strong enough to hold my jaw closed from below.

“No, Vanessa. You are not speaking anymore tonight. I don’t care if you suddenly feel apologetic. Your blood suffices as an apology.” He still doesn’t sound angry. He’s quiet, calm, gently chiding but almost soothing, and that freaks me out more than if he actually got mad enough to yell.

I don’t try to talk anymore. I just hold still.

“Keep in mind how I cared for you when I had no use for you,” he says. “I saved your life in the only manner I could. Keep in mind I’ve taken you back now. I’ve sheltered you, and a stranger. I’ve made concessions, and compromises, all for your sake, to ensure the family itself will survive.”

His hand moves from mine, down to my stomach, and presses, uncomfortably hard. “I try to refrain from making threats, Vanessa, but as you’re already well aware of the strength of a vampire, I’m sure you need no reminding that I could end you and your unborn child simultaneously with barely a twitch.”

A noise of fear comes outta my throat.

“I do not depend on you. I have other sources,” he says. “I certainly didn’t need to bankroll a homeless whore. But I made an agreement. I intend to uphold it, so long as its members live.

"I enjoy an arrangement where all parties are civil to one another. Act out like this to me again, and I will seriously reconsider the benefits of remaining civil to you in return.”

He lets me go. I stumble away, shivering, heart going crazy. He straightens his jacket, takes the gun down, and hands it back to me. I shakily put it away. Chuck sits down behind his desk again.

“Have a good night, dear,” he says.

I almost say something, but I don’t think it’s safe, so I just swallow and nod. I get the hell outta that place as fast as possible.

I call the police, 'cause there’s nothing left to do. I make sure the new bruise on my shoulder’s covered up. I feel almost guilty to report Rune as a missing person, after what she went through before. Maybe she just got fed up with me for good after the fight. Maybe she’s just taking some time away to cool off. Maybe she really doesn’t want me to find her either way.

But I gotta try, whether she likes it or not. She’s my responsibility now. Not just emotionally. Legally too.

And I really fucking hope the cops can find her, 'cause there isn’t a damn thing I can do.

I don’t sleep at all that night.

—

May 12.

It’s Mother’s Day. I check my phone and cry.

I don’t hear from Rune all day or night. I wouldn’t sleep tonight again either, but I’m too exhausted. I pass out on the sofa eventually. I’m feeling like the last frayed thread holding together an old blanket. I can’t lose her too.

Chuck keeps his word, helps with trying to find her. He looks at my debit card charge history, in case she stole it to buy bus tickets or something. Nada. He puts a P.I. or two on the case. Says he doesn’t have enough faith in the police force – they don’t have a monetary incentive.

Rune’s skateboard and baseball bat are gone. The skateboard’s normal. The bat isn’t. She doesn’t lug that around everywhere. It’s metal. Bad sign.

Days pass. I go up and down the street asking every neighbor if they’ve seen her. I hit up the diner, the movie theater, the parks. Ask all the employees, all the local kids. Nobody’s seen her.

Finally there’s a ping on the radar. A teller from a local bank with a national chain saw Rune. Says she tried to open a bank account, but didn’t have enough forms of I.D. and left. Nobody was with her. Her hair was a different color, but I told the cops to make sure the report noted she dyes it a lot.

It’s a gut punch. She left on purpose. Tried to cut ties. Took the money I gave her, tried to start new. She really did get sick of me already.

And now I’m alone. After trying my hardest to keep my friends, I’m alone all over again, 'cause nobody can put up with me. Vampire or human, I’m just a burden to somebody.

I cry myself to sleep on the sofa several nights in a row.


	8. Frozen

May 20.

Not even emotional devastation lets me skip doctor checkups. Everything’s going fine, physically. I’m just the perfect incubator. Hooray me. She says to visit every couple weeks now.

I hold myself together until I get home, remember it’s empty, and have another breakdown at the door. I put my shades on in the house just so I don’t have to see how red my eyes are.

At least once Junior arrives, I’ll have a never-ending highway of distractions from this misery. I won’t have to worry about crying myself to sleep, ‘cause I won’t get to sleep anymore! If I even survive long enough to meet it.

I’m halfway through cutting up a cantaloupe for lunch, when the doorbell rings. I put down the knife and go answer.

My heart drops through my stomach to my feet. It’s Jacob standing there.

I just stare. What the hell?

“Van, I’m so glad I finally found you,” he says. “I had no choice. It was Lark.”

“I –”

The awful, hurting hole in my entire chest wants so, so badly to believe him. I want it to be true. I want him to not mean anything he said. He didn’t wanna leave. Adrian wasn’t free. Lark was holding Jacob hostage all along.

But I remember him calling me a dog to salt the wound. I remember seeing him married to Adrian, happy, careless, regretless. I remember his mom said everything was normal.

I almost ask, 'What do you want?’ but I don’t even care. I can’t get sucked into another empty promise or scheme again.

“Just… Just go away, Jacob.”

He looks me over, stares at my stomach for a second, hesitates before speaking. “Van, please.”

“No. Leave me alone.” I go to close the door.

He stops it. “Let me in, so I can explain.”

“No.” I push harder on the door, then suddenly yank it open to throw him off-balance, and slam it in his face.

The doorknob blasts off a second later. He throws the door open. Magic’s all around his hands. His fake pleading expression’s gone, now he’s just cold and empty again.

I dive for my purse on the coffee table, roll outta the way just in time to dodge another blast of ice. I pull the gun out and fire, get off two shots, before an ice dagger stabs my hand and another one sends the gun flying into the kitchen. I don’t yell, can’t afford to feel pain, battle mode, I roll away from another ice blast, I dive behind the sofa, hear cushions explode, I’m running for the kitchen, diving for the gun.

The faucet rips off and water gushes out. Knife falls off the counter with a clang. The geyser arcs down and freezes across the room in a wall, I slam into it face-first, my glasses snap and fall off. Gun’s on the other side of the wall.

I’m still on the floor, hands and knees in puddles. I make a desperate stretch for the knife, and the puddles freeze. I’m pinned to the floor, half-face-down on my side, only one arm free, just too short to reach the knife.

Jacob walks in, stands over me. Doesn’t bother kicking the knife away. He knows I can’t reach it. I still try. I have to still try.

“Why?!” is all I can think to say.

“I have to uphold my end of the bargain.”

“Fuck your bargain! What the fuck bargain says you have to hunt me down and kill me?! Haven’t you done enough?!”

“You’re getting too close to… accomplishing certain things, which I’m not at liberty to discuss. I’ve been sent to end you both before you can do those things.”

“What things?! I’m goddamn – is it the baby?!”

He pauses, frowns. “No. I… didn’t know about that.”

My body burns from being frozen to the floor. My arm hurts from trying to reach the knife. I can’t stop trying, I have to try, dammit. Some of the ice is melting from my body heat. I see my blood turning it red. I have to try. I can’t not try.

“I just –” I’m panting from the effort now. “I just wanna be left alone, I wanna live my life in peace, why can’t you just…”

“Who’s the father?”

“Nobody. None of your business. Why do you care?”

“Was it your pimp?”

I flush, not looking at him. Just gotta focus on my hand, trying to get the knife.

“I killed him after you left New York,” Jacob goes on. “I made him pay for what he did to you.”

“Oh, go fuck yourself. If you cared what he did, you wouldn’t have done it to me first. Nice job waiting until after it didn’t matter anymore.”

“I wasn’t allowed to directly interfere.”

“You chose not to directly interfere. How did you even know about him, anyway?”

“I scried every so often to check up on you.”

I flush even darker. “You – Y-you saw w– You saw all along and you just, you still looked so fucking happy and, didn’t regret what you did, what you caused, you just – Fuck you! You can’t just go around – God, you’re sick! Violating my last shred of privacy and dignity after kicking me out, watching me get – And you just go and kill him after to act like you’re doing the right thing all along?”

“You didn’t think I wouldn’t keep tabs on my best friend and daughter?” he snaps.

“How dare you! You don’t get the right to call yourself my fucking friend! And she is not your fucking daughter, you don’t get that right either, you threw her out, you goddamn knew what you were doing all along, letting us rot, like rats on the street, while you live in your fucking pampered spoiled little rich boy life! Turning on the magic soap opera to watch us suffer for a kick, patting yourself on the back for selling us down the river!”

He scowls at me. “It’s not like that.”

“You’re not my friend! You never were! You’re my enemy, just an enemy in waiting all along! Why didn’t you just kill us at the hotel, instead of dragging this out?! Oh, that’s right! You wanna 'check in’ to see how bad we’re doing! Why not let me have the baby first, so you can steal its candy and watch it cry too?!”

“I was your friend. I am. I just have to –”

“My friend wouldn’t be trying to murder me and my children, you goddamn psychopath!”

I hear sirens coming. Good. The neighbors care, at least. I’m still trying to reach the knife. I’m crying, for who knows how long now. I think I was crying all this time.

Jacob looks back over his shoulder, toward the open door, frowns like he was expecting someone else, someone who isn’t there.

“What’s wrong, is Adrian your crazy little murder-fuckbuddy, or did you finally get bored and ditch him too?”

Jacob glares at me. “No. It’s – not important.”

“I never mattered to you,” I say. “God, you could watch what happened to me and – and still not care – never regret anything – I’m nothing to you. I’m just. Nothing.”

I drop my hand with a sob. It’s too much. I cover my face and weep, defeated and pathetic.

“I give up. I can’t. I can’t take this. I can’t wake up again just to hurt this much anymore.”

I keep my eyes closed so I don’t have to look at him, and put my hand on my stomach. It’s the closest I can get to not dying alone. “I’m sorry,” I say quietly.

I hear him building up another ice spike. I don’t open my eyes.

The spike doesn’t come. There’s a huge, ripping boom of thunder, a yell, a thud. I risk looking.

Jacob’s dazed on the floor. Rune’s standing in the living room, bat outstretched, electricity crackling all over her.

Jacob looks as confused as I am, but ten times more shocked, literally. He rolls up to his knees and sends up another ice wall, blocking her off. She beats at the wall with booms and flashes.

His back’s turned, his concentration’s loose, the ice around me is slush. I lunge for the knife. He turns to me again. I lunge for him with the knife. Ice cuts my face and arm just as I sink the blade into his thigh.

The wall behind him shatters. He turns, I stab again, Rune clocks him across the skull with the bat. He spins to the floor and stops moving. Still breathing, barely, but bleeding fast enough that he won’t be for long.

I scoot away, back myself into the corner in a ball, shaking all over. I’m bleeding too, not as bad, but still bad. Adrenaline’s leeched out of me and now I’m weak all over again.

Rune kneels in front of me. “Van, are you okay?”

“I – I don’t know.”

“I’m sorry.”

I drop my head on my knees. “What’s going on?”

“I can’t… tell you where I’ve been. I have to leave again before anyone else sees me. Don’t tell them I was here. I – I’m sorry.” She drops her bat to hug me. I hug back, weakly. Unlike with Jacob’s empty excuses, I believe her.

“I think Chuck put some kind of anti-scrying magic on the house,” Rune says. “Or the phones.”

“Jacob was scrying on us,” I mutter.

“He sent Alexa after me. They’re working together for Lark.” Rune looks at Jacob’s dying body. “Or… were.”

“What the fuck.”

Sirens are close now. She gives me a last squeeze before she gets her bat and stands up. “I’m sorry. I’ll come back. I mean it. I’m not abandoning you, I promise.”

I lean weakly against the wall, letting my legs fall flat, too tired and too pregnant to stay curled up. “…I love you.”

Her face goes through a million things in a second. Shocked, confused, weirded out, guilty, happy. She doesn’t say anything at first, and just mumbles something like a, “Yeah, same,” after a few moments.

“I– I’m sorry I yelled. At you. Before.”

She shrugs. “It’s okay. I’m sorry too.”

The sirens are on the street now. Rune escapes out the back door. All the ice is melted by now. It’s just me in a waterlogged kitchen, with a dead body halfway to the living room.

Cops and paramedics rush in. Before I know it, I’m in the back of an ambulance, then the hospital. What’s new?

The next few days are a blur. I’m alive, nothing hit my vitals. Kid didn’t die either. I get a blood transfusion. Wires, tubes, bandages everywhere. Hospital food sucks for satisfying cravings.

Cops come to take statements. I play it safe, don’t say a damn thing. Chuck comes in to play lawyer. Not surprised he’s on the bar. He’s had hundreds of years to collect talents and certifications. Not surprising at least one lawyer out there is literally an ancient blood-sucking evil being, either.

Looks like everything will get swept up neatly. Jacob Rivers, recently married to his recently ex-missing fiancee, killed in self-defense during a break-in and assault of local pregnant single mother. Fun headline. Journalists show up to take statements too. Probably at least one hunter faking it.

Jacob’s extensive roll of prior criminal charges all suddenly surface at once. He gets smeared to hell and back. By the time Chuck the bloodhound’s done composing the dossier, he’s made Jacob look like a totally deranged, lunatic terrorist. Nothing goes to trial.

No idea about Alexa. Wherever she had a showdown with Rune, it never makes it to the papers.

Neighbors send get-well cards to my room. One from Zeke and Mike too. Guess it’s inevitable other monster hunters and monsters would hear about this.

I get one card with no return address. It’s a belated Mother’s Day card. Pretty plain, nothing too fluffy. No writing. Just a single lily-of-the-valley pressed inside.

—

July 21.

Had to replace the broken furniture. Got the kitchen remodeled thanks to water damage. Landlord wasn’t happy. Oh well!

Chuck had one of his own guys come in and put some magical wards on the place, in case any more “renegade wizards” try to kill me again.

Chuck also makes me have a baby shower. I put my foot down against any super girly crap. I already hate the state of myself right now. Every time I see my reflection, I get a jolt like missing a step on the stairs. I’m big and I hate it. Well, it’s not the bigness, but that’s not great either. It’s the exact brand of bigness that makes everybody call me 'Ma'am’ and 'The Pregnant Lady’.

I take a weird guilty pleasure in rewatching that silly movie 'Junior’. If Emma Thompson can be the butch to Schwarzenegger’s femme, there is hope for me yet.

Anyway, baby shower. Buncha people from the community. Mostly just the neighbors, and some people I sorta made friends with at the places I shop and eat. Everybody’s kind of annoyed that nobody knows the baby’s gender. Tiny little clothing ends up covering the rainbow as a result. Hah.

Okay, that’s the good thing about the shower. Everybody’s obligated to buy me a bunch of useful crap so I don’t have to do it. Maybe I should start having birthday parties too. Getting presents is nice.

I have a feeling people showed up mostly because nobody’s been in my house before. It’s a mystery house. Mysterious stranger bankrolled by a rich big-wig outta nowhere. Stranger gets pregnant with mystery baby. Stranger’s teen goes missing. Another rich big-wig shows up to kill 'em. Guy gets killed instead, exposed for a buncha crimes.

Guests try asking me what really happened. Who was that guy, did he take Rune, is he the father (ha, god). Did he have mob connections, do I have mob connections, am I in witness protection, blah blah.

I give some vague answers, mostly tell 'em I don’t wanna talk about it (it’s true. I don’t). Except the part about Jacob being the father. I say no, definitely not, to that one.

It’s an okay shin-dig, but it’s hard to get excited about anything when I’m constantly worried about Rune. Or living with the fact I just had to kill someone who used to be my best friend. Or the fact he tried to kill me first.

All the way down that slippery slope of douchey evil for nothin’, huh. Didn’t factor into freeing Adrian, that was a done deal already. Just tossed out the only people who actually needed him for someone who didn’t. Now that someone doesn’t even get to have him either.

I wonder how the Bakers are taking this. If they didn’t all know what kinda person Jacob was before, they do now. I bet the family stock or whatever hit rock bottom after that shit-show. I don’t care enough to find out.


	9. Years

August 15.

I’m scarily close to the due-date. Can’t stop thinking about everything that could go wrong. I don’t feel safe being alone, but I don’t wanna be around Chuck more than I have to, so I ask a neighbor if I can stay with her for now.

She’s an old widow, gets giddy to have someone else around the house. We have the same taste in old TV shows. She asks if my uncle’s single. I say I dunno. (I have no idea if he’s into people, like, at all. I don’t really wanna think about it.)

Either way, she’s happy to have me around. She dotes on me all motherly-like, gives me lots of sage advice about doing all my future motherly doting, says she wouldn’t complain if I stuck around after the birth, too. She had five kids, knows how exhausting it is.

“Didn’t you have a husband, though?” I ask.

“Oh honey, the man never does a thing around the house.”

“Guess I’m not missing out on anything then.”

—

September 6.

First cramps start in the late evening. I already have a bag packed. The old widow drives me to the hospital. They check me over, say I’m good to go back home and wait. Nothing’s gonna happen for a while. I’m paranoid about it, but they insist, so fine. I try to get some rest at the lady’s house. Doesn’t work. Too panicky.

By dawn, pain’s really picking up. We drive down, doc sees me again, puts me in a triage room. It’s not my usual doc, and I don’t recognize any of the nurses. I don’t know these people. Wrong shift. They ask if I wanna call the father (god, when will people stop asking about “the father”?) or anyone else. I say nope. They ask if I want an epidural. I say yes please.

Anyway, labor totally sucks. It’s painful, it’s exhausting, it’s messy, it takes five fucking hours. If anybody ever tells me it’s a beautiful miracle, I’m punching them in the face.

Anyway anyway, I have a girl. They put a pink beanie on her so everybody knows. I review my name ideas so far, decide on Annette. Annie for short. (Like Lennox.) Another second or two of thought, and I add the middle name Grey. A nice unisex backup option, just in case.

After making sure she’s all healthy and I’m not bleeding to death or anything, they hand her over. They say I should… talk and bond… all that.

And I’m left alone (ish). It’s really… noticeable. Every time I ever thought about ending up here, I thought there’d be someone I knew. Or at least had some wishful thinking about who I wanted there, even if I already knew it was impossible.

But I don’t have any living family left, and everybody else is gone. Chuck doesn’t know yet, ‘cause fuck him. Rune’s who-knows-where, who-knows-how-alive. Nobody else. God, I hate being alone in hospital rooms.

“Hey,” I say to the kid on my chest. “I’m Van. I’m your… parent. Yeah, okay, fine, your mother, but I’m pretty androgynous most of the time, and there’s only one of me so it’s not like you have to tell me apart from anyone else. Call me whatever you want, I guess.”

Okay, maybe it’s better nobody’s in the room right now. I can’t even talk to a newborn without sounding awkward.

“So… uh… nice to meet you?” I have an arm kinda loosely around her so she doesn’t fall off, but I don’t wanna break any tiny bones, so I refrain from hugging. For now. I’ll ask the docs about it later.

She gets hungry and latches on.

“O- kay. Okay, you just. Do that.”

It’s weird, but it’s fine.

“I guess this is how it is, now.” I sigh. “Sorry about why you’re here. I’m trying to figure out a way out of – You shouldn’t get stuck with Chuck too. Sorry. I’m sorry.”

I put my other arm over my face, take a few slow, deep breaths, clear my throat. Gotta keep cool. Don’t want her wigging out and crying too.

“Anyway, Annie,” I say after a minute. “You’re grounded for like two dozen weeks for all that kicking earlier. Don’t think I forgot about that. You have homework, too. First assignment is to figure out your favorite ABBA song. Second one is you learn how to dance.”

She doesn’t pay any attention. Still going strong on that tit.

“Yeah, don’t worry. I’ll teach you all that.”

—

November 2.

I get a birthday card with no return address, with a lily-of-the-valley pressed inside. Maybe Rune found my birthday in the old census records and sent it early.

I get another card with a lily, this time a little past Christmas. Neither card had anything written inside. I hide 'em, but I can’t risk keeping the flowers. Chuck knows her real name.

It sucks that she’s not here, but at least she’s alive.

—

May 25, 2020.

Another Mother’s Day card from Rune. Couple weeks late this time.

Annie’s actually got hair by now. All dark, almost black like mine. Same as her eyes. It’s really weird to look at a kid and know they look like you. I take a shitload of photos of both of us. Kinda for my sake, mostly for hers. Just in case something happens. I figure she’d want to have photos.

Halloween rolls around. I was too stressed last year to celebrate, and the year before that left a bad taste in my mouth for costumes for a while. This year I get a proper vampire costume – as in, the cheesiest Dracula one I can find. Annie gets to be a little bat. Everybody oohs and awws. As they should.

I get another card, this time almost on my actual birthday. I don’t think Rune actually knows when it is. She’s just sending them on Halloween, and they’re showing up in November. When I see her again, I’ll tell her when it is.

—

January 4, 2021.

I get a Christmas card from Rune. Just wish I could send her something back.

Heyo, Annie walks now. Cool beans. Teaching her all my sick dance moves next. She also says her first word, and it’s 'Mama’, and, god, okay, I’m never getting back my reputation as a chill person if I’m getting emotional about shit like this.

Gotta remind myself to stop cursing so fucking much now that she’s talking.

Anyway, I don’t know any lullabies except the basic dumb ones everybody knows, so Annie gets only-kinda-off-key renditions of ABBA’s greatest hits. She likes 'Dancing Queen’ best, like a casual, psh.

She doesn’t get Eurythmics’ 'Sweet Dreams’. Yeah, title might sound fitting, but the lyrics are way too on-the-nose for my life now.

Another Mother’s Day comes around, but no card, not even late.

Another week goes by, and still nothing. I try not to panic. There’s a reason. A good reason, that doesn’t involve Rune being dead.

Times like this remind me of how lonely I am overall. Yeah, there’s Annie. But you can’t lay your problems on a baby. I dunno how much of my life I can ever explain to her, how much she’ll believe.

Okay, she’ll believe everything, once she finds out what Chuck really is. I feel sick and guilty every time I see him, every time he calls to ask how we’re doing. God, between bloodletting and breastfeeding, I’m basically eating for three, huh? I want out of this, but what can I do? I could barely keep myself and Rune alive on the street before. Now I have a kid I can’t leave alone at all.

I have no one else to leave her with. The old widow passed away. So, there’s my best chance at a regular babysitter I could trust.

Yes, Chuck could babysit. He watched me sometimes. Which – well, my grandparents clearly trusted him way more than they should’ve, but whatever. He’s got enough control not to eat a kid, but it doesn’t matter. I don’t like him being around her.

I still don’t have anybody to talk to. I can’t tell anyone about half of how fucked up my life has been.

The Mother’s Day card finally shows up, two months late. I can’t even tell anyone how relieved I am – There’s no one to tell.

—

September 7.

Annie’s second birthday. She’s a Virgo, by the way. I read the horoscope to her every morning. I dunno if I really believe 'em, but hey. They’re fun.

By now I already had to convert Rune’s room most of the way into Annie’s room. I’m so exhausted just keeping up with this kid by myself all day long, I need, NEED my own room to myself. If – When Rune comes back, she can take the sofa until we figure something out. Maybe Chuck’ll let us move to a bigger place. Sigh.

If I’m gonna figure out any kind of escape plan, I gotta take the time to learn how to drive again. Need a license, like, yesterday. I give in and put Annie in daycare. She cries like I’m making her walk the plank.

If someone told me a few years ago that every moment of my life and every inch of my house would be dedicated to taking care of kids, I wouldn’t have believed 'em.

For Halloween, I let my hair down and go as Morticia Addams, and braid Annie’s to make her a tiny Wednesday.

Still taking photos all the time. I cave in to the build-a-nest instinct and frame a couple. One of Rune, too. I wanna put up the photo of my parents, but… people would ask questions about their obviously-'60s clothes, and I don’t wanna make up cover stories for the timeline. I can’t even tell anyone how my dad really died anymore.

Ugh. I went for a super long time basically never thinking about 'em. What’s there to think about, anyway? Now I just… Whatever.

Rune sends a card for Halloween, and another for Christmas, right on schedule. Which is to say, two weeks behind schedule. Same thing.

—

May 8, 2022.

Another Mother’s Day, another card a week later. The first one with any writing with it. It’s just the word, 'Soon’. Hopefully a good sign.

As cliche as it is to say, I finally get back my figure. My stick-figure. Well, mostly. I already weaned Annie by now but… looks like some changes are forever. My tits are never gonna be that small again. Oh well. Not like anybody sees 'em.

Which is kind of a problem.

I am out of my goddamn gourd needing some human companionship right now. A human who will not shit herself. I start finding whatever 'Mommy’ hangouts I can find, because, look, even if I could get away to a gay bar, no hot young singles wanna go home with anybody who has a toddler.

Except anybody who’s popped out her own kid is usually into men. And usually already married to one.

Not that I’m against cucking some dude by banging his wife under the cover of a play-date. But like. How do you bring that up in a conversation without getting banned from the baby club? 'Anybody wanna fuck? No? Ha ha just kidding!’

I finally just learn how to use a dating app. Turns out, though, that even in the age of modern technology, lesbians looking for hookups are rare, mythical creatures. Or filthy liars with boyfriends looking for threesomes.

And so October arrives, and it’s been three years since I got laid. Ugh. This is just single parent life, isn’t it?

Halloween’s here. I put on my old black suit, buy some cheap knockoff shades, and put Annie in a little monster-alien costume. Man In Black, and monster. Heh.

Seeing her eat lots of candy makes me… worried. I shouldn’t be. If my diabetes got cured, she’s probably fine, right? I get her tested asap, just in case.

Poor kid. Needles make her scream like they’re sawing her legs off. But the relief of normal glucose levels, or knowing she won’t get measles or whatever – Well, she can thank me later.

As usual, I get another card from Rune a couple weeks later. No writing this time. No explanation for the last one. Oh well.


	10. Gift

December 25.

Christmas! I get Annie some stuff. As you do. I decide not to induct her into the Santa cult. No need to throw in fake-magic bullshit when there’s plenty of real-magic bullshit she can learn all about later. Plus, it’s way more satisfying when she knows the presents come from ME.

I have a car by now. That’s not a present. Well, it sort of is. A present for myself, which I bought earlier, with my allowance. It’s used, it’s cheap, but it goes places buses don’t go.

The day goes like normal. No snow again this year. That’s fine with me. Once night falls, I get the two of us bundled up in warm clothes and take her for a walk around the neighborhood to see the lights everybody put up.

When we get close to our house again, something makes me stop, some little detail that makes me instinctively realize something’s different before I’m aware of it. It takes me a few seconds of scanning the area before I see it: Our mailbox doohickey’s up. On a bank holiday.

I tell Annie to wait right there. I scan the area again. Everything’s quiet. I’m probably being silly. It’s been years since I had to fight anyone or anything.

Well, trusting my instinct never did me wrong. I hunch over to make myself a smaller target, and dart over to the mailbox, keeping low, keeping my eyes peeled for any movement. A curtain, a rooftop, a tree, places with good line of sight. I don’t let Annie outta my sight either.

I throw open the mailbox from the side. Nothing happens. I grab what’s inside.

Another card from Rune. A Christmas card. But… it’s on time. Which is weird for her. I check to make sure the lily’s in there like usual. Yep. And more words.

‘Phone off. Blink light once if safe.’

I look around again, but with all the blinking lights in the darkness, I might not see someone hiding in my own bushes. Spooky thought. I call Annie over, bring her inside, check every room and closet, close all the blinds, double-check all the locks. Most of that’s unnecessary, 'cause I’m gonna be paranoid forever about blinds and locks.

I check my phone, shoot off a few return holiday greetings, and then I turn it off. After a few seconds, I go hide it in my room, stuffed in a pillow. I go back to the living room, and blink the porch light once while looking out the peep hole.

A knock at the back door makes me jump halfway outta my skin. I think about getting my gun, but it’s locked up, and… firing wildly with Annie in the house gives me the worst sense of dread. I grab a kitchen knife on my way to check the back door. Annie’s distracted with her new toys, doesn’t notice anything.

Back doors don’t come with peep holes, of course. Who’d want to stay safe from anybody in their own back yard? I just throw open the door and jump backwards in the same second, ready to defend myself, thinking another one of Lark’s minions tricked me, and –

And it’s Rune.

She’s grown up now. Thinner, taller, hair’s a mess, all choppily-cut with only a little dye left on the ends. Her clothes are dirty, her hoodie has new blood stains on it, her bat’s dented. She’s got some new scars too.

I put the knife on the counter in a heartbeat. “Ru–”

She stops me with a hand held up, then turns the hand into a wiggly phone gesture next to her ear with a questioning look.

“It’s off,” I say. “In another room.”

She gives a weak, small smile, steps inside, closes and locks the door. “Hey.”

I grab her in a hug. She drops her bat to hug me back.

“Rune… Rune, I –” The shock wears off, and here come the waterworks. “God, I’m so happy to see you. I missed you so much…”

We just hug tight for a while. I don’t wanna let go, 'cause I’ve got over three years of missed hugs to make up for.

“I got you both something,” Rune says when she pulls away.

“I – ah, crap. If I knew, I woulda…” I grab a paper towel to blow my nose. “Oh, damn, you haven’t even met her.”

Her face falls a little. “I’m sorry. I said I’d be there.”

“I’m just glad you’re okay, Rune. C'mon.”

I lead her to the living room. She looks caught off-guard by the picture of herself on the wall.

“When did you take that?”

“Oh, uh, I dunno, a candid shot,” I say.

We sit on the sofa. Annie looks over at Rune, sizing her up. Not the first stranger Annie’s met, but probably the dirtiest. Rune smiles, mostly a sad smile, looking teary-eyed again.

“Rune, um, this is Annette Grey Renard.”

Rune looks at me, a little surprised. 'Anna’ is her middle name. It mighta factored into my decision.

I go on. “Annie, this is Rune, my – um – your…”

“Hey there. I’m Rune. I’m your big sister. Sorry I haven’t been around. But I’m here now. That means I’ll protect you.”

I smile with a big surge of warm and fuzzies.

Rune reaches into her new backpack, pulls out a little wrapped box, and holds it down for Annie. “Here you go.”

Annie’s reservations dissolve as her eyes get big. She pushes up to her feet and runs over to take the present, plopping down in front of us to tear it open. Inside is a stuffed plush bat, the underside of its wings printed with blue and gray storm clouds and lightning. Annie starts waving it around to make the wings flap.

I’m still grinning. “Hey Annie, what do you say?”

It takes a few moments and a couple more gentle reminders before she says, “Thanks,” without looking up from her new prize.

Rune holds out a much smaller box to me next. I open it up. There’s a clear, unlabeled vial inside, holding a clear fluid. Reminds me of insulin, which would be a hella weird gift.

“What… is this?”

Rune speaks quietly. “I hunted down Cain. That’s… his.” She taps one of her canines.

It takes me a long minute to process that. I haven’t even thought the name Cain in a while. And this… is the potion made from his fang. It’s the potion I can use to become a vampire again.

“I know there’s some kind of ritual that goes along with that,” Rune says. “I couldn’t find it anywhere. I was hoping you knew it… and you could cast it on yourself…”

“There – there is. I do.” I take a long, slow breath. “I can, but. Rune, I – You went through all this trouble, and… it looks like you’re still… monster hunting. I can… turn you with this instead, if you want.”

“No,” she says firmly. “That’s for you, if you want it, but it’s not for me. Whatever Fate wants me to do next, I have to do it with my own power. And who knows if my destiny-magic stacks with vampire powers, anyway? If they just cancel each other out, then it would all have been for nothing.”

I stare at the vial for a long time. I have to wait to figure out what my thoughts even are, before I can speak them.

“I – I do still want this. Hell, it’d make things a lot easier in a lot of ways. Not having to sleep, or feed myself – food, er… I’m not, uhm, breastfeeding anymore, so…” I look at Annie. “But I’m afraid of hurting her. I don’t know how long it will take to get myself under control again.”

The thought of never being able to hug her again puts a knot in my stomach. How long would it be safe for me to hold her, without fighting the urge to sink my teeth in? But then how long am I willing to put this off, and stay right where I am, under Chuck’s thumb, being a bloodbank, letting her become one too, unable to protect her, fight for her…

“If I do this, I don’t know what Chuck’s going to do,” I say. “To me, or her. Or you.”

“He’s not gonna do a fuckin’ thing, because I’m gonna kill him.”

I stare. “What? But… The money…”

“We’ll take as much as we can get. We’ll rob his mansion.”

“It won’t last forever.”

“It’ll be easier for you to get more. And you won’t have to spend it on yourself anymore.”

I’m stuck in the same problem as everyone in my family ever was. We’re not on the will, and the allowance dries up eventually. At least I own a car, even if I don’t own the house, but… god, raising a kid in a car?

Everything I do, I gotta do for them. They’re everything. They’re all I owe my loyalty to. But what’s really better for them? The vampire that’s guaranteed to feed on them, to make them have kids too, on and on, or… the vampire that’ll try not to hurt them, but might kill them on accident anyway?

“If I turn, I can’t be around Annie for at least a week.”

Rune nods. “We don’t want her around when the fight goes down anyway.”

“How soon are you going after him?” I ask.

“As soon as possible. So I can catch him by surprise. Whether or not you decide to use this vial, I’m still going after him. I can’t let you two live as Chuck’s slaves and snacks for the rest of your lives. That’s no life to live.”

That takes off the biggest part of the problem. I’m not choosing between two vampires, if Chuck’s dying either way.

“Then we’ll take him down together,” I say.

“If I could get a team of hunters together to go after Chuck, I would, and keep you out of it,” she says.

“Then we can’t worry about what-ifs that won’t happen.”

Annie climbs onto my lap to show off the stuffed bat. It’s a good thing she doesn’t understand what we’re saying.

“I can lure him out by telling him you’re back. We don’t wanna try to fight him in his own house,” I say, talking to Rune while watching Annie (or else I’ll get, “You aren’t LOOKING!”), “but we can’t fight him in here either. He had someone put up wards. I don’t think your magic will work.”

“That’s what he’ll think,” Rune says. “I can disable them. I learned some new tricks.”

We work out a loose strategy after I put Annie to bed. I mighta said not to worry about what-ifs, but my head’s full of 'em now.

I think about how Rune’s dad was a secret monster hunter, and got himself lost in another dimension for it, maybe killed by now. I think about my dad getting himself killed in a war for nothing. Maybe they both thought they were doing it for a good cause. Thought they could see the bigger picture. Maybe they were just dumbasses who didn’t know when to stay put.

I dunno which one of those I am now.


	11. Duel

December 26.

Rune finds the wards and disables ‘em. I clear out a space in the attic to set up the ritual. I’m nervous. I’ve never sired anyone before. I dunno if it’ll work, casting it on myself.

I get in touch with some baby-club mommies (in person, not over the phone) until I find a family who’s fine taking on Annie for a week. I tell the couple that I had an emergency come up, can’t go into detail. I don’t let myself think too hard about everything that could go wrong, or I’ll get too sick and dizzy to drive.

I tell Annie I love her, drop her off with a big bag of toys and supplies. She doesn’t know this isn’t just another little play-date, doesn’t know how long it’ll be. I don’t know that either.

I visit the butcher, buy a bucket of blood, go home. I get out my gun. Rune enchants it. Another trick she learned. Cain vampires don’t have a weakness, so you gotta hit 'em hard with anything you can.

We go up to the attic. I cast the ritual and drink the vial quickly. It’s bitter with a worse aftertaste. The taste spreads up my nose, a bitterness going through my sinuses that turns into a wave of icy burning pain, spreading down into my lungs. Rune ties me up in case I go feral at her.

Doesn’t take long to get bad. God, it’s bad. Labor was nothing. The cold spreads through everything. Cold and burning at once. Everything’s dying, turning over with dark magic. It’s like every sickness and injury I ever had all at once. I can’t think at all, mind goes blank, my whole existence is just horrible pain and I’m yelling and trying to escape it. I did this better the first time, but I was halfway through death’s door already the first time.

I don’t remember it all the way through. Pain, pain, and pain. I’m dead eventually.

Then I’m not. Instead I’m hungry. I hurt all over with how empty I am. No more having a bunch of organs all needing something different to function. Now it’s just one thing, and I need as much of it as I can get.

Rune’s already put the bucket between me and her, and the lid’s already off. I dunk my head and chug. No dignity. Once it’s empty, I flop over, getting my senses together.

I feel brand new. It’s easy not to notice how sore and needy your body is until it stops. All the old aches and pains, gone. That exhaustion I was holding for years, it never really went away until just now.

“How are you feeling?” Rune asks.

I can smell how much blood she has inside her. It’s super distracting. “I…”

Focus.

“Let’s kill Chuck before I go crazy.”

She unties me now that we know I’m not gonna attack her. We go downstairs, I call Chuck. He doesn’t answer. I call again until he does. I tell him Rune’s back. I say he better get down here, 'cause something’s weird with her, and I don’t wanna drive her across town. Need him, not a human, to check her first.

Hey, it’s true. Kind of. In a way.

He puts me on hold for ten minutes before finally saying yes. I have a feeling I interrupted some kind of rich old guy inter-holiday get-together.

It isn’t long before he rolls up in his little old Saab and gets out. As usual, he walks with a fake slight hobble, leaning on a cane, in case anyone sees him. All bundled up in an overcoat, hat, and scarf. It has to take a lot of effort to always look feeble. I watch him through the peep hole. My gun’s hidden at my back.

I wait for him to knock. I wait a few seconds after. I open the door, kick his cane out, grab his arm and yank him inside in the split-second he’s off-balance. I kick the door shut as I draw my gun. Rune’s already up with her baseball bat sparking with electricity.

He was gonna see my eyes anyway. Better to fight now and talk never.

Wish I could be a fly on the wall in his brain right now. He twitches like he’s jumping at Rune, I fire and miss as he ducks outta the feint, bullet hits the sofa, pillow fluff explodes. Chuck’s got his cane and, well, of course it’s a hidden sword. Next lunge is real, he stabs Rune at lightning speed at the same time she zaps him with actual lightning.

He doesn’t stop, pushes her through like a skewer and he’s up in her face and he goes to bite, his teeth hit her hoodie and grind like stone on stone. She hits him with her bat with a big crunch. I fire again, hit him, he doesn’t seem to care, he picks Rune up and throws her one-handed like a football, all the way into the far wall of the kitchen.

Then he’s on me, sword going crazy fast and crazy hard, slashing me up as I unload the whole clip of magic bullets into him. I grab the sword and try to yank it away, he moves with it and shatters my ribs with a single uppercut of his other hand. I hear a few little clinks of metal as bullets pop outta him, his wounds healing up at super speed.

I headbutt him, hear a crack as I break his glasses. For a second I see his real face, red eyes shining like a cat’s in the dark, glaring but no passion in 'em, hair all messy, fangs out like a cobra’s. Never actually seen his fangs before. He’s a cold, wild animal, and he opens wide and bites my throat.

Rune runs back in, clonks him on the skull, he turns and throws me into her, and half my throat doesn’t come along with me. Cold air’s on the inside of my neck. Barely hurts. Feels like I got nicked shaving.

Rune jumps up as I fall over. She and Chuck duel bat-and-sword, sparks literally flying. I grab Chuck’s fallen scarf and tie it around my head and neck, 'cause they’re doing some disorienting and kinda scary wobbling right now. Goddamn, he nearly bit my head right off.

I suddenly smell blood. Chuck’s slashing up Rune’s legs, 'cause he saw her hoodie stop the sword too. I go to shoot, hear an empty click, run for my clip to reload. Ignoring the blood. Ignoring it.

Then he’s suddenly on me again. Before I can shoot, he’s smacked the gun away, grabbed my arm and bitten in. Tearing and pulling. He turns us around just as Rune fires off more lightning, it hits me instead, only barely hurting him. He’s already healing from everything else again, what the hell.

There’s some horrible ripping noises as my arm comes most of the way off. Clear liquid’s just sloshing out everywhere now. It hurts like hell for a hot second, then barely hurts at all. Like sittin’ funny until it falls asleep, just some pins and needles now.

Fine. I can’t shoot. So I bite him back and take out a chunk of his face. He slam dunks me into the floor hard enough to crack the floorboards.

Rune fries him with more lightning. He’s looking battered, not healing as fast now. So he turns and runs. He kicks the door open and bolts outside. Rune chases. I pull myself outta the floor, grab my gun, and follow, squinting in the sunlight. Forgot it stings like that.

Chuck punches Rune hard, sending her flying back into me, and we go over like bowling pins. As we’re getting untangled, Chuck goes and stabs all four tires on my car. Not being a petty asshole, I realize, when he runs over to get in his Saab. He’s making it harder to chase him down.

By now I hear sirens, see some of the neighbors hovering around at a safe gawking distance. Crap.

We can’t let him escape, or we’ll have a hell of a time getting a second chance to kill him. He’ll ruin us from a distance, like he did to Jacob’s rep, and probably send a hit squad before we can get close.

So I jump up and book it down the street after Chuck as he drives away. Don’t care who sees. Rune can’t chase us, but she can catch a bus.

I see Chuck on the phone. I catch a glint of red in his rear-view mirror. He looks me right in the eyes, cold, careless, annoyed, and he speeds up. But I’m full of fresh blood, a literal bucket of it, and the ancient magic of the most ancient vampire in existence as my sire now. I’m pounding pavement like a race horse.

He doesn’t go toward his house, dunno why. Doesn’t want me wrecking his mansion, or he’s got a backup lair somewhere else. He’s still on the phone. I see him hang up, call, talk, hang up, one after another. Calling for backup probably. Calling the cops, reporting I went crazy, Rune’s crazy, trying to murder an old man. Calling the banks to cancel my debit card. Wish I could read lips.

My arm and head are mostly stitched back up by now. He takes sharp corners, trying to lose me. I cut across lawns, jump over other cars to keep up, I don’t care. I gotta keep him in sight. He’s gotta stop sometime. I hear more sirens, separate from the other ones. Someone musta called the cops on me for running down a street with a gun. Great.

I get a horrible sinking feeling when I recognize what neighborhood we’re in now. I know where he’s going. I know just who he’s been calling one after another, what he’s been trying to find.

He pulls up to the house of the family where I left Annie.

I stick the gun in the back of my waistband again. I still got on a second shirt, untucked, to hide it, but I can’t hide my eyes or… well, the fact I’ve been broken and shredded in several fun varieties today, healing factor or not. I’m running as fast as I can, he’s already knocking on the door.

“No!” I yell. “Don’t you dare!”

The door opens, I see the mom flinch back, double-taking at his eyes, and the rest of him. His clothes look as bad as mine do. And he’s got blood on his. I see her face turn to shock and fear. He acts breathless, pointing back at me as he says I’m crazy and trying to kill him.

The mom takes her eyes off him to look at me, confused, scared, and in that second Chuck’s on her throat, fast as a viper. He grabs her waist as he pulls her in the door. He starts to close it, I run up in time to kick it open.

Before I have time to curse or shoot at him, or any of my other instincts here, he tosses the woman at me. “Drink up, dear.”

By reflex I catch her, and there’s blood everywhere, all over her throat, he didn’t drink, just bit her open, and my mind goes blank. Before I know it, I’m crouched on the floor, guzzling out of her throat with both arms wrapped around her. I don’t recognize her anymore, can’t think about what I was doing or why I’m here. I just need blood.

By the time I drink her empty, my mind clears, then fills with every curse word I know. I jump up, draw my gun as I run through the house, trying not to explode with panic. Where’s Chuck? Where’s Annie?!

I trip over the corpse of the family dad in the hallway. Neck snapped, and also bit, and no blood pool. Chuck drank him. Son of a bitch.

I hear very sudden screaming of a tiny voice, a familiar voice. I run to the end of the hall, kick in the door to the nursery. There’s the crib, Chuck straightening up from it, setting back down a tiny dead body – But there’s still screaming, I look around for Annie, she’s backed into the far corner, screaming in terror, clinging to the stuffed bat.

“Tell her to be quiet, Vanessa,” Chuck says softly. “I’m not here to hurt her.”

I aim the gun at his back.

“Van,” he says more sharply, “you know you can’t kill me fast enough.”

He’s right. I don’t know what to say at this point. I wanna say some cool one-liner, because if I can be cool it means I feel cool, in-control. I don’t. I’m not cool, I’m cold, freaked out. Takes a second to realize I’m so weirdly empty because I don’t have a heartbeat to go double-time, don’t have breath to be hyperventilating, or a stomach to be double flips. All the panic and shock’s all in my head.

God, she saw him do it.

I almost do what he says and try to calm her down. But if that’s what he wants – then fuck him. It’s probably a bad idea. Maybe she should scream. Maybe the neighbors should get worried. Maybe someone should call the cops.

“You can’t run forever,” I say.

“I can run better than you, dear. I have passports.”

“Touch her and you die.”

“You couldn’t kill me with backup. You certainly can’t kill me alone while I have a hostage, either.”

He’s not actually touching her. He’s halfway between me and her. But this whole clip wouldn’t stop him before he could snap her neck.

“Put the gun down before someone gets hurt,” he says, walking toward Annie. “I am leaving. I am taking her with me. I’ll keep her alive, unless you shoot, in which case…”

She shrieks and runs away from him, trying to get to me. He catches her easily, picking her up in one arm. She flails and screams at him. He walks up to me. I’m still in the doorway. He holds out his hand.

“Give me the gun,” he says.

I shove it under his chin and shoot off his jaw, then tilt the gun and fire again to blow off both his top fangs. Annie shrieks louder, covering her ears. Chuck grabs my wrist, pushing my hand up as I fire again, and it shoots out his eye. I’m holding my ground, not moving, not letting him past. He’ll have to drop her to get past me. We stand there in deadlock, the gun pointed at the ceiling, both of us trying to point it each other.

I can’t let him take her, can’t let him get out of here.

I suddenly pull back, letting him stumble forward, letting him take the shot through my face 'cause I know I can take it, but then the gun’s all mine. Before he can grab it again I put it into the shoulder of the the arm holding Annie, and I fire again and again, reaching up my other hand to grab his arm and yank as hard as I can. He’s not the only one who can rip someone’s arm off around here.

His arm’s barely attached, and goes limp all at once with one more yank. Annie hits the floor with a thump, scrambles up and runs past me (gonna see the corpses, shit, can’t help that now).

Chuck grabs the gun away in my half-second distraction. I dive at him in a wild tackle, just trying to keep him back, as he fires just as wildly back, half-blind. I feel like Swiss cheese when he starts beating me with the butt of the empty gun. I fight back, punching, clawing, biting, anything I can do, just going feral monster on him.

He fights back, just as ferocious. If I’m the wild animal trying to protect its young, he’s the wild animal backed into a corner just fighting for its life. He can’t bite but he can tear, so I rip off his arm the rest of the way, but he can still hit hard enough to crunch bones with the other hand.

I latch onto his other arm at the elbow, shaking and tearing until I take it off too, and then there’s nothing to do but just keep tearing. I throw the fucker down and just keep tearing him to pieces until he stops trying to grow them back.

I’m hunched over what’s left of his corpse. I’m tired, but not aching, muscles don’t ache anymore. No breathing heavily. No racing pulse. I just shiver.

I hear Annie crying. Not screaming anymore. First instinct’s to go comfort her, but I can’t. When I hear her get close, I shut the door, slump against it. She’s calling out for me, and it hurts not to go to her.

“I know,” I say. “I know, Annie. I’m right here. I’m okay. We’re gonna be okay. I – I can’t open the door.”

She tries to get in anyway, too young to understand what’s going on at all. I keep talking to her in my best calm voice, as I pull out my phone and text Rune the address.

The longer I sit here healing up, the hungrier I get. I know that the only reason I didn’t try to attack Annie already is because I already fed on the family mom.

Rune gets here. She tries to calm Annie down, then knocks on the door. “Van? Are you in there?”

“I’m here. I’m… I need blood.”

“We have to get out of here.”

I dig through Chuck’s remains for his keys and slide 'em under the door. “Should we burn the place?”

“Probably.”

“There’s some snow chains in their garage, I think. I’m not gonna stay in control until I get fed.”

“Think Chuck has spare blood at his house?” she says.

“Probably.”

Rune takes Annie out to the car. I scoot away from the door and wait. I try to focus on holding still, but as soon as Rune opens the door and I smell the blood on her, every thought except hunger goes flying out the window. I whip my head around with my fangs bared, and she tackles me face-down before I can pounce.

I’m hungry, I’m so hungry and there’s just all that blood on her and I need it so bad. I can’t think of anything. Just gotta feed. I gotta bite.

I’m already weak from fighting Chuck. Rune keeps me down, gets me chained up, drags me out of the house, and throws me in the trunk of the car. I’m thrashing and snarling even as the engine starts and the car drives off. A starving, horrible eternity passes.


	12. Groovy

December 27.

Yesterday was mostly a blur after the fight. Rune got us to Chuck’s house, kept me chained in the garage while she found his blood stash (better not think about where it came from). Then she looted the hell out of the place. Hard cash, credit cards, flash drives, important-looking documents. Annie’s kept safely away from me the whole time.

We maybe have a day or two at most, Rune says, before we need to get out of town. She sneaks back out to our house, loots what she can into my car. I tell her what to get, over the phone. Necessary stuff for Annie, mostly.

The only way we can travel together for now is if I’m not in a car with the delicious bloodbags. Which sucks, but whatever. So Rune steals the tires off a neighbor’s car, puts ‘em on mine. We do some careful transfer – I get in my car, she and Annie get in Chuck’s. And then we ditch Chattanooga, just like that.

An old, classic luxury car is way too conspicuous, so we trade it at a shady car lot, the kind that doesn’t need paperwork. We trade my plates out at the same place.

And then we gun it north, outta state. I dunno if anyone’s actually on our back. I try to think about what the facts are, what the cops will actually see: There’s me, a legal citizen and my two kids. One goes missing, and nobody’s seen her since. Maybe the neighbors caught a glimpse, dunno.

Then there’s Jacob. Broke in and attacked me, I fought him off. No trial, no charges. Life goes on.

Then there’s Chuck. Day after Christmas, he shows up at my house. There’s gunshots, fighting on the lawn, he blows my tires out and drives off, I run after him. Then there’s gunshots at another house, the family I know, and then… it goes up in flames and the whole family’s found dead inside. No evidence, no witnesses.

Don’t think they can identify Chuck’s remains in there either. Not from just a skeleton. Probably.

So then his car’s missing, my car’s missing, we’re all missing people. I’m pretty sure I can’t get away saying I killed two different high-rollers in self defense.

Rune’s going through his files and cards. She gutted his bank accounts as much as possible. Lots of tax evasion and embezzling on his part, big surprise. She has names of other people he bankrolled, other bloodbanks. She sends them money to make sure nobody’s totally cut adrift from his dying.

I ask how she was supporting herself for three years alone. Turns out when she kicked Alexa’s ass, Rune found her old stuff in Alexa’s stash. That old Alice in Wonderland was worth millions. More than enough for her to go globe-trotting to hunt down Cain and still put away funds to take care of me and Annie.

Annie’s traumatized, and I can’t do anything about it. When she’s older she’ll barely remember everything, but right now, it’s awful. Having that shit go down as soon as I left her at someone else’s house? Yeah, she’s having a huge problem with separation anxiety now. I can’t get close, can’t hug her, can’t fucking do anything and she doesn’t know why. Best I can do is talk to her over video-chat as much as possible, mostly from the other car.

There’s nothing as depressing as having to sing your kid a lullaby over the phone from the next-door motel room. Actually, no. It’s even more depressing to do that every night for weeks.

Rune leaves the baby monitor in there and comes over to my room. I’ve been chugging blood from a thermos from whatever sources we can find. I still don’t get too close, just in case.

“We have to hunt down Lark,” she says.

“I guess,” I say.

“We won’t be safe until we do. He’s why all the shit for the past few years even happened. He’s been trying to drive us into the ground and keep us from going after him all along.”

“I mean, it sounds like if we just aren’t going after him, then…”

“But you know that’s not going to stop him. You weren’t even thinking about him anymore by the time he sent Jacob after you. It’s all because Fate wants me to kill him. As long as I’m alive, Lark will do everything he can to ruin my life, and the lives of everyone else I know.”

“Yeah.” I rub my head. “I just. I wanna settle down, and let Annie grow up safe, and just have – I just want you both safe and happy, without having to constantly walk a tightrope of danger…”

She gets quiet. “I’m sorry. If you hadn’t met me, none of this would have happened to you.”

“Yeah, I’d probably just be wandering around alone still, just some hobo who fights small-time monsters and doesn’t do anything important. The only reason this sucks is because I have people to worry about now, but I’d rather be with people I care about than care-free because I don’t have anyone at all.”

“I’m sorry I was gone so long. I tried…” Rune sighs. “Remember when I asked you in the diner if you wanted to be a vampire again? That morning was when I had my first vision in a while. Fate was pointing me toward Cain. I had more visions after that. I was following a bread crumb trail that just kept getting longer and longer. I had no idea it was going to take so long.”

“Well… it’s not your fault. I’m not mad. It’s, I mean, it’s not like Fate let us fall off the tracks. Lark just kept pushing us off.” I stop to listen to the monitor, as Annie rolls over in her sleep. She’s been restless, having nightmares almost every night.

“If he won’t give up on trying to ruin your life, then he’s an enemy we have to take out, and that’s it,” I say. “Way too many died already because of him. And those are just the ones I know about.”

Rune pulls out a clam-case and tosses it over. I snap it open. There’s a brand new pair of Aviators inside.

“Happy… late Christmas, or really early next Christmas,” she says. “I wanted to give these to you sooner, but then everything just… happened.”

I think about how I got my first pair. Not a token of generosity from Chuck. Just a way to hide what he did, what I became, to play normal. All his rules for faking love and compassion were just to take advantage of people, 'cause whatever black hole he had for a soul didn’t have any real emotions in it. I used to worry I’d turn out like him, thought going soulless was inevitable. Now I know he was just an asshole all along.

Now they mean something different. I’m not some ugly half-dead-looking Cryptkeeper anymore. Spooky eyes, yeah, but that’s it. Maybe I’m not human, but I’m not faking being a real person.

Now they’re just the groovy fashion statement they’re supposed to be.

“So,” Rune says, “you wanna go fuck up Lark’s shit?”

I snap the glasses to my face. “Hell yes.”

—

May 10, 2023.

Some hotel lobby. Free continental breakfast. Bacon, English muffins, mini cereal boxes. I’m not eating any, obviously. I’m kinda half-paying attention to the morning news, while fighting the eternal battle of wiping sticky food off a little kid’s hands, 'cause somehow Annie’s got more grape jelly on her fingers than ever made it into her mouth.

Rune and I are exhausted as hell, 'cause we’ve just been through it. It’s not the kind of exhaustion of climbing a pit you just can’t escape. It’s the exhaustion of winning the marathon. We’re done. We won.

Someone in a big frumpled coat walks up to our table. I tense, and realize after a second it’s that P.I. from New York. I don’t un-tense yet. Rune eyes him warily.

“…Hey,” I say.

“Good, I finally found you.”

“Okay.”

He pulls out some papers, sets 'em down. “These are for you.”

“What, am I getting served?”

“No. It’s a deed to a property in Salem, New Jersey. Apparently it fell through the cracks and was incorrectly listed as belonging to a Charles Hewitt for some sixty-odd years. I’ve been investigating his… colorful past after his presumed death. Anyway, it’s yours now, and I’m guessing by your expression you know which property I’m talking about.”

I look over the papers, dumbfounded. Wrongfully executed power of attorney or something, a bunch of legal jargon I don’t understand. What I do understand is the part where it says Vanessa Renard’s the real and rightful owner of the estate. My grandparents’ house. The house I grew up in.

He fiddles with his sleeves while he stares at me. “Your eyes are a different color.”

“They do that.”

“And you have a child now.”

“I do that.”

He looks between me and Annie a few times, gears turning. “Aren’t you a lesbian?”

“What, you never heard of dew drops under cabbage leaves? Some detective you are.”

He asks more questions, I evade ‘em, he eventually leaves. The girls finish breakfast. We head out to the parking lot.

“We’ll finally have a house. Our house,” I say, still a little dazed. “And if he – if nobody’s after us for Chuck’s death, then… No more running and hiding.”

“If we don’t stop for anything on the way,” Rune says, “we’ll get there in time for Mother’s Day. We should do something for it. We never got to before. You deserve it.”

I try not to grin all stupidly at that. Dumb warm and fuzzies, they strike again. “Okay, well, if you insist.”

“Does Salem have a diner?”

I scoff. “'Does Salem have a diner.’ You know Jersey’s famous for its diners, right? The Salem Oak’s probably just how I remember it.”

She grins at me. “Let’s go get a milkshake.”


End file.
